


Nordic Tragedy....

by pritispuki



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel fandom - Fandom, loki frigga, loki marvel, loki thor - Fandom
Genre: Attempted Murder, F/M, Frigga - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Intersex Loki, Jotun Loki, Loki - Freeform, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Parent/Child Incest, Poor Loki, Sad Loki, Servants, Unplanned Pregnancy, fandral gets himself killed, fenrir x jormungandr, hel is confused, loki ragnarok, loki s kids, loki x frigga, loki x jormungandr, lokix fenrir, nifelheim, please dont read, warning-if you dont like dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 79,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pritispuki/pseuds/pritispuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hel, daughter of Loki and forced Queen of Nifelheim. As a young girl,she was taken from Asgard and locked away in the dark kingdom . Her years in solitude without a soul to rely on - except her father -  have left her broken and, in her mind, forsaken... As the centuries pass, and with only Loki's devoted love, she finds herself more and more captivated by him; only not as a father, but as a man...This events will cause the Ragnarok..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Voyage...

**Author's Note:**

> never wrote a fic before and yeah sorry guys-i don't actually speak english every day so ,please correct me if there are some grammar mistakes.also keyboard is partially broken and i cant push some keys,soo...if u think that the story is dumb ,please notify me and i will try to delete it-or stop posting.thank you for reading.  
> .this is based on this video (it has a sequel)-so spoilers:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VufCVnm8sd8&spfreload=10 also a great author -skylerkyriu wrote her version of this two videos here :http://archiveofourown.org/works/2581085/chapters/5744780?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_18199979 check her other stories as well-she deserves it.and i do need to add animefreak141-who you may know for her story: Unadulterated Smut with Uncle Loki http://archiveofourown.org/users/animefreak141/pseuds/animefreak141 she was also kind to help me with this ...i don't even know where this is goin...
> 
> ALSO FEW FIRST CHAPTERS R JUST CLASSICALLY BORING...PLS CONTINUE...THEY SHOULD IMPROVE LATER...i hope.

 

The stone walls and columns stretched forever ...  
"It’s so dark! Where are we?" The little girl was startled when she found herself, along with her father and grandfather, in a cold, dusty hall. Nothing like this was seen in the sun bathed halls of pure gold which Hel was so used to.  
Her small voice echoed through the numerous entrances. There were but a few torches lit; everything else made of black marble was consumed into sinister shadows. Horrifying moans and murmurs reached their ears... like it was the shadows themselves speaking.  
"It is just the wind, Hel, the wind - nothing to be afraid of." Loki placed his hand on her head to calm her down - too much had happened in such a short amount of time.  
It should be more than shocking for her.  
It certainly was for him, but it was not the time to show how powerless he was... how powerless to protect her.

She grabbed Loki’s hand and looked into her grandfather’s cold eye - he had absolutely no emotion on his face: "This is Nifelheim…. a land of ...your ancestors." - It was a partial truth.  
  
Oh, how merciful is he not to say a land of the dead ones. As if Hel will not realize herself - there was never such a wise child! Loki thought bitterly, biting his tongue.  
  
The raven haired man was trying his hardest not to break into tears or slam his fist into the nearest wall, or at least grab her and vanish far, far from here...  
He was smiling gently at his daughter, but on the inside he was feeling as though his heart was being stabbed again and again...  
  
An innocent one to be punished just for being his child...  
  
Little Hel was the Migardian equivalent of 8 years old and was not, by any means ignorant. She knew quite well what Nifelheim was. She remembered all the stories of the Nine told to her by Loki or Queen Frigga herself.

 

  
  
Although this day had started like any other, something was amiss. Her maid woke her up earlier than usual, rushed her to eat, get dressed and pack some of her most important possessions.  
"Dear Elga, why so? Will we travel somewhere today? A trip to the golden flower meadow? Or to the magical forests of Alfheim? Oh, will I see the elves?" Usually those picnic trips were rare, but mostly pleasurable and consisted of having fun with her family, so naturally she was excited.  
However they were never as secretive as this one; the old woman was serious and not really looking at the small dark haired girl.  
  
  
"No, my lovely Princess,” she caressed her soft hair, "I don't really know... but you must be prepared so that you can see the All-Father. He said it is of an urgent matter.” Elga knew more than she wished to share and Hel just pouted.  
It was difficult to lie to the daughter of the Trickster God - she even knew how to analyze most of his tricks.  
she took her large crimson bag and stuffed it with her favorite dresses and her toys.  
When they got to the great hall, she found Loki shaking and trying to hide his tears; it was obvious that he and her grandfather had had a quarrel.  
"Everyone leave!" Odin demanded and all the guards and servants rushed out.  
There was only the three of them left.....  
Hel was holding a large horse toy and almost fell over it as she ran to her father’s side. She tried to send him calming energy, for he really needed it.  
He did calm down a bit and winked at her, but the tension grew and her large green eyes stared at Loki, then Odin, then Loki again, sensing something horrible was to come  
  
"’Tis alright my love, do not fret. I’ll be with you and I shall let no one, nor anything hurt you. Trust me..." Loki knelt next to her and hugged her so tightly that she thought Ragnarok is ahead.  
Hel placed her pale grey fingers around Loki’s locks and questioned his reddened tired eyes:  
"What is the matter? No one tells me anything! Did I do anything bad? Why must I go somewhere? Please...please TELL MEE!" She was scared now - more than ever.  
  
Before Loki could open his mouth to reassure her there was no danger, her grandfather stood up from his throne: "Hel, you are a young intelligent girl. It is time for you to take the place I decided to give you centuries ago and to learn some responsibility. Something my younger son has never truly understood!"  
Loki screamed “How dare you! Do not take this out on her! Don't you take her away!"  
Before Hel could ask anything, with a flash of light they were teleported into eternal night...  
  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

"You have a few moments to bid farewell, Loki." said Odin. He shared a long meaningful look with Loki and then a short one with his granddaughter and disappeared in a golden light. With him gone Loki, while heavily breathing, sat on the cold floor and took some of her toys from the red bag.

 

"Oh, see now..." his teary eyes sparkled, "do you remember when I gave you this?" he smiled, holding her silver horse. "You were so little... still in your crib... one day I took you to the stables and when you saw Sleipnir, you said that you wanted to ride him. Of course, you could not, so I made this... tiny... doll...” He broke off and started wiping the large amount of tears that made Hel ever so nervous.  
"Father?" she grabbed his hand again.  
Loki shook his head. "You are to stay here, my dearest!"  
He could barely manage to speak, so he decided to say it quickly: "Odin has declared you to be the Queen of Nifelheim ...when you get older, that is."

"But...I don’t need to stay here until then...uh...do I?" She jumped into his lap and demanded from him to show some hope in his eyes; to make all of this a bad dream.

Loki just bowed his head - he could not look at her. "I am so sorry. Maybe you will understand one day. I promise to visit you as often as I can, but now I must be off.”  
This was a sign for a weird creature to step into the light, as if he was there listening to them all along. He was an old man, but his skin was grey-like Hel’s and his flesh was hanging on his legs and arms like rags.

Loki stood from the floor, looking stiff and vaguely transparent** "This is Otr. He will be your most trusted servant. He was mine...a century ago.”  
Hel had never seen a dead person before, but she was not frightened, for Otrs eyes were kind and his smile genuine.  
The servant bowed. "The future Queen will have everything she needs, my lord, just as you had. If I may say so - you have grown into a good man, just as I hoped you would. I can see the same in the young Queen’s eyes."  
"I have missed you Otr, I truly have, but we will see each other more often, now." said Loki. He turned to Hel, "When I come to visit, my beautiful Hel, I shall bring you the most expensive dress in all of Asgard, hmmm?"  
He kissed the girls forehead and vanished.

 

 

Hel let her first tear run down.

"Please... don’t go" she whispered.


	2. Love s strenght...

  
“Arrrrrrghhhhhh!” Loki growled as his fist went through the wall.  
  
He was bleeding, but physical pain had nothing with his inner turmoil. In his maniacal outburst of anger and sadness, he didn’t even realize his behavior and its consequences.  
Now falling to the floor of his room he got a pretty nice view; the bed was upside down -literally, the table was burned, cushions were now a pile of ashes, the curtains too. Once beautiful painted walls were completely unrecognizable with all those red stains of his. He was in utter despair. All his children... Odin had stolen them from him... Fenrir, Vali, Sleipnir, and now his little princess.... she was so pure . She could have a great life; if not here, then in other realms. Loki would take her to see all that she desired. Maybe, just maybe one day she would find a good man and marry him. Loki loved all his children and would want nothing more than to see her happy. She never really was.

  
  
He was too exhausted to stand so he just lay there for hours. A large golden framed window was just above him (one of the rare things he didn’t break),so he let himself get carried away with the peaceful drift of the grey clouds. Although he finally looked relaxed, dark thoughts and memories just kept rushing in and penetrating every cell in his weak body. He knew exactly why Odin put Hel in the grave-land... "Oh yes," he spat through his teeth, "for she was a monster; a child of one in the same.

 

“You, Allfather, could never stand me, so you took your might out upon her. But I shall not indulge you." He sat up and took a curtain to wrap around the still bleeding wound on his right hand. It did not help, unfortunately; there was too much blood still mockingly pouring from the severed veins.  
He did not care, not at all. The room looked just as he looked on the inside. Let others see the injustice that had fallen upon his family yet again.  
"I shan’t indulge you, Odin!" He continued in a vicious tone, "She will be loved. And she will know of this!

  
“Not as I, who was rejected, played as a fool wherever I went. Oh no!  
  
"Your power only goes as far as this... real power lies in the greatness of ones heart!  
  
"For maybe it is better for Hel to be somewhere where she will not be a figure of shame and to be isolated so no royal and noble eyes are disgusted by her form!"  
  
He was now pacing hysterically in a large cycle and continued his monologue, unsure if he spoke verbally, or were those but his thoughts? Nevertheless….  
  
"She is not the one to be ashamed... they are… all of them…" His final words barely had any sound in them as the skinny man arrived in his bedchamber and stood in front of the large mirror.  
He never could accept his appearance - from the smaller and good-for-nothing, almost feminine brother of Thor - to Jotun monster.... he was never good enough.  
They all either feared him or loathed him. He decided fear was the better option; they deserved everything he put them through and for that Odin had ripped his heart again. He knew exactly how to destroy Loki and he most certainly enjoyed himself in such a process.

Oh, Hel took so much after him... also very thin, with large emerald eyes, long soft hair... as if made of night itself... a smile that could stop wars, but... but….  
  
He turned away from the mirror - Hel was not normal.  
  
When she was born... he remembered the healer yelling that the child was dead. But she was not - she only appeared to be. Despite the most beautiful face, her left arm and leg were without any flesh. There were only bones. She could not eat as others - her diet consisted of blood. Odin, naturally, forbade her to play with other children or to leave her quarters during the day. Loki had permission to take her to the forest or the stables when most of the castle was empty for some reason. But Loki took her far more often than that.

  
She had private tutors and always had to wear long cloaks, gloves and dresses. While the little one knew nothing better, she still heard and saw (from her balcony) other children playing in the garden and run around causing mess.  
  
"Elga, why can’t I go out as well?" the maiden was used to Hel’s curious nature and was always patient and responded in the best manner she could.  
"That is not possible, princes, for you are ill. We do not wish for you to get even more sick, do we?"  
Hel hated, no reallyyyyy HATED that response! "When will I stop being sick? The healer... lady Eir told me I was fine".  
Elga, to make her stop that questioning that once and for all, said the worst thing she could come up with: "When your skin turns into a more natural tone".  
  
Hel knew that will never happen.

 


	3. Ones hearts desires ...

  
Centuries passed by.  
  
For some in the blink of an eye; for Hel they felt like millennia.

 

  
She was now what Asgardians would consider to be a young girl of 15 years. She expected soon to be proclaimed the queen of the land at the end of the Yggdrasil tree, and she had felt neither happiness nor interest; nor was she nervous for her future role. She just did not care.  
  
This was not her choice. She was a young woman with every trait of such a one. Her feelings were intense and instinctive and the need to run freely on the meadows and befriend other girls was her wish. Men... yes her thoughts went in that direction as well and then…. then her heart would sink. She would watch men around court (over her balcony or through a key hole) before she was sent here…..  
  
All of them golden and tall and strong… but one of then was her first and only crush. Fandral...

  
‘Fandral the Dashing’ they called him.  
  
She was permitted to attend the feasts only four times (she remembered every single one of them, and could go only when other children went to sleep and the majority of the guests were too drunk to stand up or think properly), but the wedding of her uncle Thor to Lady Sif was a grand event, so even Odin permitted her attendance.  
  
Fandral had seen her once or twice before, but she was always covered up, so he knew nothing of her "condition". When she came with her darling father and sat next to him she looked around the largest hall in all the realms – the table was so long that thousands of guests had more than enough space for each and every one of them.  
  
Yes, most of the food was gone, there was also trash on the floor... exhausted servants were trying to clean as much as their energy allowed. Hel felt so sad for them (she hated the thought of having a servant one day. She hoped she never would). Some men were laughing so hard their drinks were spilt on their beards, which made them laugh even harder, but one of them…..  
The handsome prince of her little girly dreams approached her with the shiniest smile she could imagine.

 

"Hello there, fair maiden. You are still awake?" her eyes just sparkled at that and she could feel her grey cheeks blushing (she hoped they had).  
"Um, Father allowed me... this time" her voice was so tiny and her smile so big, she felt like giggling and her knees were trembling - oh…. his dimples...  
"You know, one day I will steal you from our dear Loki here!" - She did not notice that Fandral and Loki exchanged very hostile looks - "and then I shall marry you! Would you like that?"  
Hel just nodded and envisioned herself in the most magical wedding gown in all the Nine.  
"Why does she not eat?" Volstagg interrupted.  
Loki hated for her weakness to be exposed, so he wanted to say something discrete, but Thor, drunken Thor practically yelled: "Well, my friend…. my dear niece does not eat at all!"  
Fandral asked: "What?"  
Thor replied: "Yes....see!" - He took her arm from her cloak and showed him how unnaturally thin it was. "She is sickly," he continued, "we fear for her..."  
And that was it - Fandral only said: "Oh! Excuse me." and found his path to a few busty maidens. Loki’s attempts to smack Thor and put his indiscretion in its place were lost to Hel’s ears. She only saw that gorgeous man flirting with... gorgeous women.  
"Father, may I go to bed now?" - She was holding on to all her strengths to not cry in front of others. Loki felt her disappointment. When their eyes met, their souls spoke to one another.  
"Of course, my dearest... you must be truly tired." When she threw herself on a mercifully soft bed, her mind resonated with only one thought:  
"No one will ever love me..."

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

  
And now her days were all scheduled - numerous tutors (all deceased) of history, magic, art, mathematics, languages, philosophy; a never ending nightmare.  
She was wise beyond her age, but gave very little enthusiasm to her studies. One of her tutors - a very old man called Arlin, was very strict and often rudely commented even when she wrote her tasks correctly. How an eyeless man could see her results was beyond her understanding.  
She only liked the hours she would spend with Tyra - a mighty seidr master. She learned to control the elements (those known in Nifelheim, that is), kill with her thoughts (but only those who were suppose to die), to vanish and how to prepare all kinds of potions. Little did she know what she would do with her knowledge one day.  
When the time came, she needed to lean how to welcome new souls and divide them by their punishments. Rare were those who were to go to Valhalla, for most of them were warriors sentenced to be burned in internal flames, cut, skinned or whipped. The punishment was equal to what they did to others: kill another and you would be killed... again and again... Good hearted people, who still hadn’t had an opportunity to receive the gift of Valhala, had an easier destiny -washing, cleaning, building...or tutoring. Once finished with her own punishment she would call in the spell which would allow her to see within other realms.  
  
That is how she discovered the healing miracle of music - mystical harps from Alfheim, strong beats of Vanheim, medieval music of Midgard. Her attention was caught by the jewellery and make up of Midgardian women - they lived short lives, yes, but took great effort to look their best (and attract men) and they changed their appearances so quickly... Hel found herself enchanted by red color on the lips and  black eyeliner; ...also with large earrings. She wanted them... she wanted to look like them...

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

Loki would come to visit her as often as he could, unannounced, for he himself did not know when he would find the time to do so.  
But to see his only remaining child (after his sons were killed), to bring her comfort... yes he would die for that. He would appear with the flash of green light even when he was wounded, carrying a smile on his handsome face, just as he would if he won the battle.  
Yes, he was always here, always bringing gifts - the ones that would survive in such a place. They were mostly toys and dresses and books. Hel would run from the shadows where she was hiding and straight into his arms, and appreciate his gifts more than pure gold. Loki even stole to bring her joy. But her joy was not in the gifts… it was in seeing her father.

  
A century ago that changed. Green light overtook the darkness of the main hall and the man in his golden amour was slowly turning to find his raven-head girl. He would bring her flowers, but those would die... he would bring her some sweets... but... his head ached with that thought.  
So he brought her something else. This was a precious gift and he knew that she would like it.  
"Hel?" he called, but there was no running; no sound of soft laughing... nothing.  
"Hel. Where are you?" - Now he was worried. There was still no answer. He started walking through one of the hallways… there were so many of them… but he sensed her presence in the brightest one. His tracks stopped in front of her chambers and he knocked: "Hel… its me, dearest one... Is everything all right?"

  
He was cut off with a firm "I know – enter."  
  
She was sitting on her bed staring at the window (the view was the one of nothingness) holding her horse toy. The only light was that from the candles. Loki’s heart ached and he sat next to her. "Are you all right?” He asked, “Do you need something?"  
She looked at him with such anger as he had not seen in her - ever. Her eyes were red from crying, yes, but they were completely black, too and her tone was gravely - "No. Do I look alright, Father?!". Loki was startled.  
"Hel… you are acting so strange… what is the meaning of this? Please... share your problems with me. I am, as always, here to listen, my daughter.”

 

  
“Oh, is that all you can say, huh?!" - She walked away from him and immediately he went to her. "I don't understand!" he exclaimed.  
  
Hel was upset and not herself at all - "Of course you don't! How could you?! I am still a child in your eyes. You bring me toys and dresses I don't even like… or need. You don't even know what I have become!  
  
“I am a young woman now! I want what other girls in the court want... and... and do... I want to get as far away as I can from here... I want to see the Nine… to dance... to listen to the jokes to feel the seas and rivers and spring wind on my skin… to stare at the sun and drink wine..."  
  
Loki sighed; he had just come from a battle and was heavily wounded; his armor hid it well. When he visited her, he desired nothing more from their time but perfection and there was none. In front of him stood a small scared, forsaken girl and he could not help her. Odin forbid it. He had taken measures so that Loki could not take Hel out. Any attempts to disobey and she would suffer.  
  
Loki spoke telepathically and rarely wasted his words, especially when his ribs were broken and he was so very weak. But he came to her and hugged her so tightly that he felt another one break. She was fighting to break loose… like an animal, but he kept his embrace firm until she calmed herself a bit.  
  
Loki kissed her head; "I went through all of this... I saw your brothers get tortured and killed... your mother as well... I have no one but you and I am prepared to die just to keep you from sorrow. If I could I would gave you the moon and sun... I would make you the queen of Asgard... there is nothing I wouldn't do for you... as long it is within my power... you must know that."  
  
Hel was silent for a long time… too long...  
  
Then she asked: "Anything? You would do anything?"  
  
"Yes, anything," Loki breathed out, still fighting with his energy and trying to stand straight.  
  
"Then leave!"  
  
Loki released her and looked into her now emerald eyes and felt all her emotions within his heart.  
  
A tear fell down his cheek.  
  
Their bond was too strong and no more words needed to be spoken.  
  
“As you wish…” his voice sounded in her mind and he left.  
  
Hel jumped on her bed feeling guilty for her behavior and hating every minute of it. She hated herself, her ugly body and this place and... her attention went to the bag Loki had brought her. Inside were her mothers ruby earrings and necklace, the ones to be given to Hel on her wedding day. The only tactile memory of her mother.  
  
Yes, Loki understood her hearts desires after all.

 


	4. Walls are breaking...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok,so any comments please...also,after such a ruff day,there would probably be some mistakes as well.should pictures be deleted or...?anyway.the next chapter will contain adult material,so...warning.many tnx to those who read this and commented.

 

   
The souls of newcomers were gathered in the large round hall - the very one where Hel had the pleasure of casting her first glance at the wonders of Nifelheim.  
There were some small design modifications – firstly, more torches; also there was a massive black throne with spiked points. As if the new souls weren't frightened enough.  
"Welcome to Nifelheim!" - All turned towards the queen. Hel had changed in the last few centuries. Now as a girl of 19 years, she was more graceful and dignified. Her hair reached her waist and she wore dark red lipstick and a black crown with matching rubies that once were a part of a certain necklace. As a good seidr master she also had a malicious looking scepter. She refused to hide her physique a long time ago – now, her signature colors were that of black wine and black itself. Beneath her leather corset was a high neckline shirt; long dresses were replaced by lace skirts - most of them were asymmetrical. The right side would end above her knee, while the left side was quite longer.  
  
  
Her posture was one of royalty and there was no sign of low self esteem – thanks, of course, to Loki.  
During her teen years, they had numerous quarrels. She even tried to harm herself, and all this had led to her finding her inner strength.  
  
Was it strength or something else? She was not sure.  
Sitting in the half dark she opened a large scroll: "As you may presume, I am the ruler of this land and some of you... she observed their faces while grinning: "would be fortunate enough to go to Valhalla and avoid my sanctions.”  
People were murmuring amongst themselves, obviously scared - there was no way out - what they did before getting here would now affect their destiny.  
"Silence!" She roared, and then calmed within a second and started reading from the scroll.  
"Now, then… Bjorn Leifson... and... Afavaldr Morson - step forward." As she presumed, two tall warriors came towards her. One had a sword in his stomach and the other a slit throat. Even they had fear in their eyes.  
"Well done!” She smiled sarcastically – “You are accused of killing for pleasure and stealing from those who had nothing to offer..." They looked at each other. In their minds, they thought themselves to be idols to the young boys of Asgard - they would fight, win and conquer. The price for such bravery was surely Valhalla?  
But Hel saw so many idiots that she couldn't care less what they had assumed: "Your punishment is to die a thousand deaths and receive a thousand strokes of a whip!"  
She raised her hand and they were gone.  
"Alright... next - Adga Lifdottir!" An old woman barely managed to push herself through the crowd.  
"I see that you were a servant?" – Hel’s brow rose.  
Adga’s hands were trembling but she forced herself to speak: "Yes, my lady.”  
"I see that you were a good woman, devoted to her family and friends and that you died peacefully..."  
"Y-yes, my lady.”  
"Look at me dear Adga. You are the only one in this group I deem worthy enough to be sent to Valhalla."  
There was an instant flush of happiness on Adga’s face. She bowed: "Thank you, thank you so much, my lady.” And with that she was gone as well.  
Hel looked to the scroll again: "Now for the others..."  
  
  
After spending hours upon hours giving tasks to the remaining deceased, Hel wanted nothing more than to sit in her chair in front of the fireplace in her room and read one of her spell books, or just vanish in the land of dreams.  
However, her plans were somewhat ruined when she saw Otr treating a deep cut on Loki’s torso.  
"Arghh!" He was naked to the waist and obviously in pain - this was not the first time Hel had found him in such a state, but she did notice how mesmerizing his creamy skin and muscles looked in that light.  
She would let herself have some unholy thoughts about... NO! No and no - her brain objected once more and she averted her gaze.  
"My darling daughter" He spoke through gritted teeth -"I am sorry, for I cannot greet you properly. Your moronic uncle had the brilliant idea of marching against Jotunheim… again. Arhhhhh! I said oil it Otr, not scratch it!"  
"Forgive me, sire, but the wound is deep and needs proper cleaning.”  
Hel smiled strangely at that sight: "Otr, please bring another bowl of warm water... and some more healing oils… and this time from Asgard, not Muspelheimr; they burn the skin."  
Otr apologized for his previous mistake and limped into the dark, closing the heavy old stone doors behind him.  
  
  
Hel sat next to Loki. She could not remember the last time she called him ‘Father’; that term made her feel so impure and monstrous. Her thoughts about this marvellous man who she now was cleaning were very, very dark.  
He was oblivious to them, of course.  
His muscles tensed and he looked at her. How had she not seen his beauty before? She was so fortunate to have him as her fath… no, protector, friend.  
His emerald eyes, ever so questioning made her shiver: "You are quiet, Hel. Some great weight is upon your shoulders. Whatever it is, do not try to hide it from me. No misfortune should be borne alone. Problems will build up until you find yourself trapped within an unbreakable labyrinth of walls."  
"Is that a metaphor or reality?"  
"I beg you not to be so cynical; I am proud of you. Do you hear me? Proud."  
She looked at her left hand and took her leather glove off.  
"Of what? What have I achieved? I am still nothing."

<                                                                                                                                        Loki turned to face her "Never speak as such! I am proud of this magnificent young lady in front of me; whose power and intelligence reached the ears even of those on Midgard. I am proud of you managing to control your anger and face the injustices that were laid upon you and how you overpowered them. You are a queen in every meaning of the word."  
Hel’s eyes were starting to tear up; her coldness slowly breaking.  
"I love you." - She leaned closer.  
He genuinely smiled: "As I do you. and forever will."  
He kissed her hand and embraced her.  
  
Yes.  
  
Only embraced.


	5. Wine and blood....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has a "D-day " included.there are no graphic descriptions of loki being raped,so don't worry.i apologize if there are any grammar errors here.i thank ,again dear Palefire73 for helping with that. this story isn't made of some necrophilia kink ,but only to distract my personal anger and sadness.many thanks to all readers.

\------------------------  
Since the wounds were not healing as fast as predicted, Loki took them as an excuse for not joining the glorious feast which celebrated winning a war in the pitiful realm of Jotunheim. Like they’d ever had a chance over mighty Asgard! Also, Loki s stomach turned at the sight of spilled blood of frost giants. Not that he would ever admit to it, but things had changed. Ever since he found out about his true heritage (that he was the illegitimate son of the Allfather, Odin Borson and the giantess, Farbuti), his world had collapsed. Not only in that his name was meaningless; but also in the fact that his blood contained the genetic code of another species - his appearance, actions, his seidr - all was inherited from monsters. He would forever be grateful to Frigga, who took Odin’s bastard in as one of her own sons. She truly had been a goddess of mercy and grace. A long time ago, he made an oath to himself that he would treat his children the same way. But only two of them were still breathing: Sleipnir and Hel. While Sleipnir was a good, loyal son and was actually content with his life, Hel was too much like Loki -desperate, doubtful, angry and self loathing. This few weeks together would do them both good… perhaps this would bring them together.....

\-------------------------------------

Hel’s thoughts were on a different level: she had hoped this week would bring her and Loki together as well, but in a way no father and daughter should experience. It was sick and unnatural... but so was Hel. Rules were twisted in her land.... was not she the one to set them?  
Was she not worthy of love? A lover?  
  
She was the proper age to marry, to start a family of her own.

  
Then again - there were no suitors for the likes of her. When she was a child, a wise healer called Eir told her parents that she would never be able to conceive. And she was bound to this eternal darkness. No man would willingly to step foot in this place. Her mind would scream at her for this blasphemy, for her desperation to take another against his will and she would remove her hands from Loki’s bare shoulders, shake her head to divert attention. But Loki loved her; he was he only one who ever did and she loved him. At first she thought him to be her imagined substitute for other men, but soon she realized that her feelings were true. Her heart pounded so fast every time he spoke, every time he looked at her... every time he said “I love you.” ... and “You are beautiful... mine...”  
She made her own logic - she would erase the names he used for her - daughter…. child... She imagined him saying instead “Darling wife, my greatest love...” She fought those forbidden feelings for years, no, centuries... she wanted them to cease, but they overtook her whole being. Her mind, heart and body... like a drug, an unholy possession... As a daughter of half Jotun and half dark witch Angrboda, she was doomed to ruin everything she touched...

 

  
And if that was so... then there was no point in denying herself what she wanted. She was doomed from the beginning. And so she concocted a plan - a very simple plan. It was ironic how simple it was; no preparations were necessary.  
  
"Please, Hel, stop... stop while you still can!" - Her mind was pleading.  
"No... Once... I shall do this, but only once... and no one will know... no one!" She screamed the last part out loud, as she tried to convince herself. It was the night (for there was always night in Nifelheim) before Loki’s departure - his wounds had healed and there was no practical reason for him to stay. Diplomatic matters needed to be sorted out, and they were his duty. He was glad that Hel had opened up more in such a short amount of time, but he did not question it. They were both comfortably sitting in front of the fireplace and talking about better days. He loved to recall her as a small girl playing with her toys, or hiding under the desk. His intuition was objecting to such informal behavior, but then again nothing could go wrong.

 

\---------

A few hours before, Hel had run off to the darkest parts of the castle - no one was permitted to go there - not even Otr. The stairs went into the abyss itself. The only light was the one she produced; only then there were passages visible and she took a left, then a right turn, then went through the wall. Beyond was a small overstuffed room. She hid all her most valuable belongings there - ancient books, powerful weapons, even one of the infinity stones... Tonight she took a huge book that was beneath layers of dust and spider webs. She had not dared to touch it before - its magic was too powerful and its spells lasted for a long, long time. She calculated that the effects of the potion would last, in Loki’s case, only for hours since he was the most powerful sorcerer in all the known realms. So she combined two potions into one and mixed them with wine.   
  
The very wine Loki was drinking right now. One potion was meant to erase his memory and the other to subdue him to her will. She also made one for herself - a potion to silence her conscience...

\---------------------------------------------

                                                             
For some reason, Loki felt his head spinning which was odd, for he hadn't drunk that much. But within moments he fell unconscious, or so he thought. The reality was that he was still sitting on his chair, staring numbly into the fire. Hel’s own potion also started kicking in - she finally got the courage to seduce him. She didn't have to listen to that tiny voice begging her to think it over. She felt violently free, and kept repeating to her self – “No one will know”.   
Loki blinked few times and looked around himself - the room seemed familiar. The beautiful girl in front of him seemed familiar, yet somehow not.  
"Um... forgive me, lady... but I don't recall getting here." - He felt ashamed for sounding so confused, but his thoughts were in a fog and he couldn't find a solution. He was lost. He even forgot his own name. "Also, who are you and where am I, exactly?"

Hel stood, slowly went to him and cupped his face: "Oh my dear, dear husband... it is unfortunate that you are still ill. For, you see, you were heavily injured in the battle and lost your recollection of previous events. Even our wedding."   
Loki was surprised, but it seemed logical. Everything was known, yet unknown. Also, he felt strong love for his err… wife? Yet, something was pretty off. She sensed his questioning... so she quickly sat in his lap and slowly kissed him. It was a deep passionate kiss, like it was something she had desired for a long time, he thought. Loki reluctantly returned the kiss, and like that her hands were all over him. His shoulders, waist, back... she was nervous and excited at the same time.  
"Are you alright, my lady?"

"My dear husband, due to your injury we never had a wedding night...and I wish for us to have it tonight! Are you willing, my love?" People with no conscience are extremely dangerous, Hel concluded and made a mental note not to drink that potion – no, that poison – again. But right now, she didn't care. Loki barely nodded. She took his hand and led him into her bedroom. He followed speechlessly; his mind was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't tell what exactly.   
  
His body, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. He started by kissing her lips, her neck... she had a wonderful long neck and smelled of roses and candles... she was young, and he could tell this was her first time, so he accepted the idea of them being newly married.   
  
This experience was new to Hel - for the very first time she didn't feel like a walking nightmare, but a woman. After making love together for hours, they finally fell asleep. At that point the time was last thing on Hel’s mind. Unfortunately... time was crucial.

 


	6. The servant did it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many tnx for all those who have read this ridiculous fic.really..many,many tnx.chapter summary-the servant, otr uses his knowledge to destroy hel s plan.loki wakes up...

     

 

 

 Otr was Loki’s closest servant for a reason; even though he was now destined to take care of the melancholic girl’s wishes, his loyalty towards his previous master had never diminished. He loved Queen Frigga, who was the first to whom be bowed, and cleaned after and gave advice to. She knew him to be mostly discrete and very intelligent for a man of his status. He was something more than many of his kind, who were treated like trash or often replaced by younger staff. No, she gave him his own chambers and taught him the art of so-called "witchcraft". He was allowed into the royal library and took in all the information he could find on the subject; both in theory and in practice. When Odin brought his half Jotun son, Frigga proclaimed Otr to be his right hand. It wasn't long until the old man opened his heart to the young prince. It was as if Loki wanted someone who shared the same kinds of emotions as he did. What Loki craved was a friend; an honest friend and Otr was just that. He was there when little Loki took his first steps. He was always by his side. Sometimes that was a painful experience for them both. Otr would stand behind the walls and watch, daily, how the raven haired boy was treated by the other members of the palace, especially Thor’s friends. Their cruelty and harsh words to his charge had upset him, as he remembered every time when Loki would cry on his bed, asking why do they do this, why do they say that he is ugly or not fit to play with them.

Loki was always alone. In his corner with his books, or looking through the window and constantly falling into despair. Otr would bring him tea, sit next to him and read him legends of the Nine realms (Loki loved those with the very beginning of things, when the realms were created. On the other hand, he disliked all the stories of war and blood spilling. It was not long before Otr realized that Loki was a warm-hearted, good person, and he deserved to be treated as such. It was too bad that others were small minded and... almost evil….  
  
Otr also helped the boy with the practice of magic. It was a rare sight when Loki’s eyes would light up with pride when he managed to do what he wanted (like creating a copy of anyone he chose to - oh, that was funny and used for all sorts of court intrigues! Loki also shape-shifted, vanished, healed wounds...), he truly had a powerful gift.  
Yes, they would be close friends for centuries to come.

  
When Otr’s body succumbed to the burden of old age, and his soul was sent to nocturnal coldness, his young master used magic to see him on more occasions.  
Those encounters stopped when Loki s wife, Angrboda died. Otr understood, but felt lonesome and useless. However, he also knew he had done something right; he had helped to raise a good person.

 

\------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, even with all the similarities, Hel was not Loki. She and Otr had never made a bond. She was distrustful, her personal walls were impossible to break and Otr gave up. He was too tired to deal with that again. He did as commanded; he bowed and even tried to cheer her up. It rarely worked. Otr did his best to love her, but she refused to return the feelings. To her he was a servant; a good servant, but nothing more. She would look at the ceiling, pretending that she was looking at the stars and imagining that she was somewhere else. She hated Nifelheim and everything and everyone in it.  
  
She was grateful to Otr for few things. Him not questioning her acts, not stepping in her way, and what was most important – his magic.  
He and Loki were the ones to show her the world of spells, potions and their usage. Hel, unfortunately, forgot about that.

  
That "day" when she furiously entered the kitchen and placed two bottles of wine on the table, telling Otr to bring them later, the wise man noticed something to be wrong, exceptionally wrong. He had a proficient sense of potion making and could tell that this first wine was paler than usual; also there was a hint of a strange smell in it. And then he realized what Hel wanted was to play with someone’s memory. He reasoned with logic that she would not be self-victimising. He was aware she had some unfinished business with her father and she was vengeful - was this one of her devious tricks? For what purpose? Otr couldn't risk it. He was their protector and he would protect them even from themselves. However, if he decided to replace the wine, "all Hel would break loose", so he had to choose another path. He placed few drops of amaryllis oil and silver dust in a bowl and mixed all it together - this would shorten the effects of the original potion and restore most of the memories that should be lost. Whatever Hel intended to do, Otr hoped to prevent. He added it to the tainted wine.

 

\------------------------------------

  
When Loki woke up, his sight was blurry and he felt beaten up. His whole body ached and he could barely move. He felt someone shifting on the other side of bed and the first thing that went through his head was that he was back within the marvellous walls of Asgard, in his own bed, with some court maiden or maid. Maybe it was Valera, a shorter lady of the court with grey eyes and hair of pure gold. He liked her and had found comfort in her arms many times. He liked her wit, her melodious laugh and rosy cheeks; he liked her tiny hands and her smell. She smelled of mountain water and jasmine... this girl smelled of something else.  
Autumn, perhaps...?  
  
Loki turned and saw none other but his own daughter beneath the sheets beside him. "What the... HEL!?" She now also awakened, staring at him with absolute shock and fear. Otr’s potion worked instantly - Loki recalled everything from the previous night...  
  
Everything...

 


	7. In the mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if there is any1 who is reading this- u made my day.again,i apologize for any grammar mistakes-it is hard to write on a half working keyboard.i forgot to mentioned before-this was inspired,no only by the sad story of loki,but also by that of j.r.r. tolkien:the children of hurin. an unfortunate tale of brother and sister and ,it was also inspired by an old greek tragedy of king oedipus.suggestions and comments are good to see.

  
Loki lost the very last pieces of his heart. His being just couldn't stand such a huge amount of pain. That night he yelled until he couldn't yell anymore; he asked her - why, why...?  
Maybe it was a mistake, maybe she wanted to improve the wine and the spell went wrong... he was holding his chest, afraid that his heart would fall out and stared at her… pleading (please, say it was a mistake, please say that nothing happened... please...).  
  
But no... she covered her face with her hands and barely managed to whisper - "Because I love you… I wanted you to love me the same way... I… I am so… sorry..."  
That seemed surreal and so far away from him.  
  
This wasn't happening.  
  
Yet it was.

  
Loki heard something cracking. It was his heart... the very last bit of it. The part he saved for Hel. Now there was nothing left of Loki Odinson. He was just a pale shell; completely dead inside. Her appearance mirrored his inner self. He lost that last part when he returned to Asgard - maybe after he smacked his head so many times on the wall, or when he threw up, or when he cried himself to exhaustion and fell unconscious. He found salvation in complete blackness and numbness.  
  
His mind also finally gave up and madness overtook him. Shame and disgust crept into his thoughts like serpents and pushed him to end all this.

 

  
"Do it… do it now..." They would order. Loki would grab his knife and study it for a while, but something would stop him when it became too dangerous and before he had lost all of his self control. One particularly bad time, he slit his wrists... the blood (mental associations were toying with him: blood - dripping wine).... the sharp pain which was dull now (her hair and smile ...) ....his vision was now blurred... (her kiss...) ....darkness. If his soul travelled, it went further into the past and gifted him once more with the pleasing sight of his deceased sons. They were playing in the garden...  
His small boy, Narvi, approached Loki and hugged him.  
"You must go back, father.”  
"I refuse to return! My place is here with you... this is my home..."  
Narvi smiled slightly - "No. It is not your time yet. You are needed back there."  
Loki shook the boy in fear of losing him again: "No, I can’t go back! It is too hard!"  
"You will find your strength. We will count the days until you enter Valhalla and we meet again.  
Farewell, father..."

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

  
That had been months ago... he was not counting, anyway. The ghosts of his dear ones kept him... just … kept him here,in his pitiful existence. He struggled so hard with the instinct to harm himself again. Loki Odinson was a mistake, a joke. Was he cursed? All the things he loved were taken from him; his happiness deserted him so quickly and was replaced by a large hole in his chest.... he was purposeless. And Frigga ....she took care of not only his body, but his spirit as well. He remained speechless for months. Not one word escaped his mouth.

  
With her generosity and constant care, he was able to at least answer with yes or no, but never did he speak of what actually destroyed him (and Hel).  
"My son." She was caressing his hair, while his head rested on her lap. The mint candles were lit and the soft light and delicate scent filled the room. It helped to soothe him.  
"You must see her. It has been over a year..."  
"I simply cannot." He muttered. "It… it is too complicated... if you knew what occurred..."  
She interrupted him: "My dear Loki, I do know.”  
The shame of her acknowledgement smacked him in the face and tears followed.  
"What?” He tried to hide his face from her. "But how? How can you bear to look at me? For I am no more than a monster! A wretched creature that will only be good for anything when I’m dead!"

  
She cupped his face with her gentle hands “You must not say this! I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Nothing you do will change that. And this was not your fault."  
He was again a rejected little boy who craved for an embrace, and she gladly provided him with one, now slowly rocking her curled up, ruined son. When his breathing calmed, she continued: "It was the very reason why your father banished her; it was foreseen."  
Loki’s thoughts were running wild: "And no one, not anyone told me about this!" he exclaimed. "Why?! Have you despised me so much that you just left me to my destiny?! I am broken! My daughter is broken! Why?! Why!?"

  
Frigga bit her lip and bowed her head: "If we had told you, would you have believed us? No? I didn't think so! That young Hel suffers from such a terrible illness of a mind and seeks love in her father’s arms...?"  
Loki stared at the floor: "No, I would not. She was as pure and innocent as the dawn. Yes... she has inherited sinister thoughts from me, but....I could never imagine ..."  
Frigga put her hand gently on his shoulder and kissed his forehead: "Go, and see her. She needs you. She has found herself in a situation where she is again forsaken and left to take care of herself. But this time, she can’t depend on her own strength alone."  
  
Frigga - always the forgiving one, always willing to share her love and wisdom. But she would not follow him there, not unless something dreadful had happened. Had Hel harmed herself, just as he tried? Is she alright? He could not bear to risk more agony.  
  
Yes, he would visit her.

 


	8. Parental instincts...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter made after the first video.again, i am unaware when will the next chapter come out,if it does.many kudos to plaefire73,for she is an extraordinary lady :)

                
Hel’s personal taste was a perfect mixture of shadows and fire, which said a lot about her character. Her bedroom reflected this with all the black furniture and walls and crimson carpet and sheets. There were traces of silver and grey shades included as ornaments. She preferred silver to gold, but now she had no time for such trivialities. The past year had been her own hell. If she thought she couldn't fall any deeper than being sent here, she was gravely mistaken. She was selfish and, in her own belief evil, and got what she deserved.  
  
When Loki had said that she would never see him again, he meant it. They had never been separated for so long and, as it seemed... it was permanent. For weeks she cried and prayed for him to forgive her... but… no. There was no sign from him or anyone else from the outer world. She had neglected her duties and more and more souls were just waiting there for their punishments or to be set free.

  
"He will never come back, he will never come back..." she was repeating to herself. Mostly, she was speaking to herself only, running around the halls in a search for a solution. Endless halls were certainly not the best place for the dark thoughts gathering in her mind and her depression only grew. She attempted to kill herself. If it had not been for that servant of hers, Otr, she would not be sleeping now in a warm bed, recuperating her energy for the following night. Otr gave her numerous bits of advice and brought her tea and it took a while for her to give him her trust, but when he hugged her for the first time (she never let him before), and told her that he loved her as his own daughter her defensive mechanism towards him vanished. He was a better man than she let herself believe and hated him for being one of the dead ones, for his looks reflected her fear that she resembled him. But now she finally understood how little it all meant - looks can be deceiving and unimportant; the soul is what counts. She could easily have hated herself even more now for being so incredibly ignorant and not realizing this before - she had been preoccupied by superficial things and had never seen how loved she was

  
Otr gave her no such luxury - he was by her side and helped her find peace and hope within herself. He was her one true friend and she didn't need much more. Only... Loki... yes, she still had unnatural feelings for him, but that was something she would keep to herself. There was too much damage done already.

____________________________

A faint humming awakened her. She barely opened her eyes and turned on the bed. Someone was sitting in the large chair near the fire place - perhaps Otr - this was an old Nordic lullaby. Otr would, on rare occasions, when she couldn't take care of... but this was not his voice...  
Slowly moving forward, she gazed upon the figure and realized who it was: "Father..!" she gasped and fell into the opposite chair. That single word was more than enough for him to forgive her. It pierced right through him, but it also reminded him how much he loved her. She was his child and needed him, either way. Hopefully in the right way.  
  
"Am I dreaming? You can’t be here...you… you can’t… you said..."  
His eyes were tired and his voice soft as he spoke to her: "It doesn't matter what I have said, not anymore. The circumstances have changed."  
  
He looked the baby in his lap, sleeping soundly.

 

 

  
"He is so beautiful, Hel."  
  
Loki shook his head; he could cry his heart out, again, but the idea of awakening their son prevented that. Hel kneeled next to him, and quickly tried to take the boy from his arms. She was scared and really didn't know how to react to this: "Please don't..." she whispered.  
"What?"  
"Please, I am so sorry. I have betrayed you and put a shame upon our family. You have every right to unleash your rage on me. But, I beg you… do not hurt him."  
  
With those words, she hurt Loki, instead.  
  
Hel’s actions always had the same effect; they would slowly tear Loki apart.

  
"Oh, Hel..." He couldn't stop the tears now, so he quickly placed the baby in his crib. He turned back to Hel, who was confused and waited, expecting him to slap her, or worse. Loki spread his long arms and hugged her, as he had many times before. He kissed her cheeks and nose. Hel returned the touch shyly, her eyes watering.  
"I am such a horrible person. You shouldn't have come. I did not deserve this." She wiped her eyes, but that didn't do much good, for large tears had a task to fulfil - and that was to wash her soul’s wrongs.  
"You should have tried to let me know." He looked at the crib. "This burden is too much for one person to bear. I can not imagine how you accomplished as much."  
"As you said - it is my burden and my punishment. I... I love this tiny creature, no matter how he… came to be. He is mine, and I will raise him the best way I can. Otr will help." she looked centuries younger with her red nose, large sad eyes and messy braid in a white lace nightgown and Loki’s paternal instincts lit within him.  
  
"No.” He said, “no, my daughter. He is... our son... and we will raise him together.”

 


	9. White lies..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> story continues with the SECOND video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E03LsRc7erg&spfreload=10 .dear skylerkyriu made her fic version of this vid well,as she did with the previous one.for her sequel go to-http://archiveofourown.org/works/2611607/chapters/5820860?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_18487151 also read her other stories :)
> 
> this chapter was written under an influence of some severe pain killers -the ones which make u dizzy and brainless-so i don't know how stupid it is and how many mistakes are in there.i apologize to all the dear readers.

  
Otr was more limping than running after the 10 year old boy: "Master Fenrir, I shall tell your mother what you have done!"  
Otr had to stop; his back hurt too much: "Stop! I can not run so fast.”  
The little black-haired boy only giggled and continued to run through the labyrinth of large stone walls. Some hallways were not lit, so he took his turns only in those which were bathed in silver, red or green lights. He was so close to the main hall... but, as he approached the kitchen, he hit a serving girl who was carrying a heavy tray with fine silver and glassware upon it. They both fell down, and all the crystal glasses were smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces.  
"Hahaha, oh - forgive me Adisa...!"  
  
All the servants were well used to Hel’s son’s mischief. He was a clever boy; stubborn and sometimes arrogant, but he had a big heart and a good, noble soul, and was always ready to help. He never approached them from a point of superiority and he never saw them as servants; more as his friends. He knew only of the realm of Nifelheim and its people. He knew almost every corner, every soul, every staircase, room or road through the large forest that surrounded them. He was familiar with the transits of the purple moon and tides of the grey river and he memorized the names of thousand upon thousands of servants by heart. They all loved him and assisted the queen and his grandfather (Otr kept the secret well) to raise him and educate him. Fenrir inherited Loki’s intelligence, sharp tongue and looks, but the resentment towards authority and being tutored were mostly from Hel’s genes. He hated the indoctrination he was subjected to. He would choose only the books which he found the least bit interesting and of those which he found an aversion to ... well ... some books do burn by themselves, do they not?

  
His affinities lay elsewhere - as a young Lycan he cherished every moment spent mastering battle skills and magic. The feeling of freedom and exercise his muscles would get was thrilling; he felt strong, he was already extremely fast and in throwing daggers he had no competition. Otr’s curtains were well familiar with them.  
He helped Adisa to pick up the rest of the dishes, but Otr was catching up with him. He loved the old man - he was so funny. Otr’s opinion was, of course, rather the opposite when it came to cleaning after the prince’s mess, but then again, the boy was a blessing within these cold walls and he brought a certain amount of happiness and positive energy where before there had been none.  
  
Fenrir finally made a fair distance between himself and Adisa and quickly turned to the left, but it was a dead end.  
  
"I’ve got you now, young rascal!" Said the old, bald man grabbing boy by the hand, but with the first contact, the boy disappeared.  
"A double... an apple does not fall far from the tree." Otr sighed.

  
  
The real boy was already in the main hall with Loki. They both met the servant with expressions of amusement written all over their faces.  
Otr was holding his back with one hand and balancing himself with a stick in the other: "Sire, this wicked boy has done it again!"  
  
"Oh, by all means, tell me my dear Otr Berrson; what has my wicked grandson, as you implied, done this time? Did he set the library on fire again, hmm?" Loki was smiling and loving every moment of this. The boy was his pride and joy. He was spoiling him by granting him his every wish.  
"Worse! First, he took my leg, then…"  
  
"Oh, which leg?" Loki teased.  
"What? The wooden one! After that, he ordered the lost souls from the left wing to go to Midgard and scare the tenants of castles in a place called England. He told them to stay there for 300 years! Tsk tsk!”  
The boy just looked as innocent as he possibly could; biting his upper lip and watching Loki with those large dreamy emerald eyes. He shook his head as sign that Otr was mistaken; he was probably senile. Loki knew his son only too well.  
  
Otr continued: "He teleported the snakes from the lake into Helga’s bedroom and...” (Otr puffed) “He took a bite from every piece of festivity meat which was being prepared for the night!"  
Loki could not help but to laugh out loud. Otr was, on the other hand, very serious and just shook his head in annoyance. Of course Loki would defend the young trickster.  
"Otr, you worry so much! The boy is just having a bit of fun. You were once his age - surely you underst..."  
"I respected my elders, sire." Said the old man. "Now if you will excuse me, I must return the snakes back to the lake... and cook another round of 10 roasted boars!"

  
When Otr limped into the darkness murmuring something about today's children, Hel, who was until now hidden within the shadows, took the opportunity to divide herself from them, appearing next to Fenrir. He was overwhelmed with how her energy was stretched, yet never broken. On one side she was a queen and on the other she tried to be the best parent to Fenrir she could. He was already showing the signs of his darker nature and he never grew tired. She needed Loki’s help in every possible way to keep track of the boy. Loki disappointed her; he was letting him get away with anything. He was different to her; he was forsaken and Fenrir got too much attention for his own good.  
"That was rude, my son!"  
"I am sorry, Modir... but ... Otr made me read the whole book about Nifelheim astronomy when I would rather practice the art of Vanaheim’s warriors. Grandfather spoke of the brave Hogun. One day I want to fight like him!"  
Fenrir was never surprised by her sudden arrivals; these unlikely surroundings were a very common thing to him. He knew no better.  
Hel literally face-palmed and kneeled: "You will have more than enough time for that, for you see... our loyal Otr will leave us soon."  
  
Loki blinked: "What do you mean?"  
"His punishment expires within few months. After that….." - she was now playing with Fenrir’s raven hair- "he will be sent to Valhalla.” She exhaled. She would miss him dearly. For a long time, he was her only companion. That wise, naive old fool.  
  
The boy’s eyes saddened. It was not the first time that he would be losing a friend, but Otr was special. He told him all those stories about magnificent battles; especially while his modir was absent due to her court duties and his grandfather’s presence was requested by the mighty Allfather. They played together countless times; even when he would do something forbidden (and he usually did), Otr would never stay angry for a long time. He would pinch his cheeks and small nose and exchange some old Asgardian jokes with him, which were retold later on at the dinner table.  
  
He was lost in his thoughts... his mind worked quite fast and he made some other important conclusions.  
Without any warning he turned and looked at the two tall figures behind him - "Is Valhalla where my father is?"  
Loki placed his hand on Hel’s shoulder and took a deep breath before simply replying: "Yes ..." Loki followed the motto - "the silence is gold".  
"But how come you do not speak of him mother? Or you grandfather? I wish to know more of him - was he tall like you? Was he a courageous warrior or a mighty sorcerer?" Fenrir was going to be persistent; they could see that in his piercing eyes.  
  
Hel just embraced him desperately like he was about to vanish into thin air. She was struggling with what to say. In the end, she decided that she would confront him with little white lies - after she calmed herself down first. She had known this day would come and had never truly prepared for it.

  
  
After Loki wished him goodnight, Hel took the boy by the hand and guided him towards his bedroom, which was similar to the one Loki possessed back in Asgard - it was designed with good taste, even if the design was a strange collaboration of multiple cultures. Fenrir shared Loki’s affinity towards green, black and the color of old gold. He also hoarded everything the deceased ones had no use of anymore. Many boys in Asgard had all kinds of amour and weapons, so Loki wanted to provide Fenrir with the same, if not even better. His son was a royal and only the finest of all would fit his title. Of course, Fenrir’s things were lying around, taking all the valuable space. The young prince was hot-blooded and had almost no patience. He would place his things where he could spot them instantly. Tidying his room was unnecessary. Hel wanted him to learn at least some responsibility, so she forbade the servants from doing it for him.  
  
She sat on the edge of the bed casting a tired glance at the horrendous state of the room.  
Fen was already under his blankets. He placed a golden helmet on the pillow next to his.  
  
She tucked him in: "Did you know that not only are the eyes the gates to ones soul, but also ones bedchamber? And, your Majesty, yours is in a horrible mess."  
Hel was a gentle, loving mother, but Fenrir knew she would bother him until he did as he was told, so he agreed by making a small ultimatum. He was used to doing what he wanted, thanks to Loki.  
  
"Alright, I will clean it tomorrow. But... only if you promise to tell me more about my father."  
  
Hel had reached the very limit of her strength, so she kissed his red cheeks, "Of course, sleep well now, my son." and soundlessly left the room.

 

  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

  
Hel entered the luxurious room; the one with the fire place. Loki was waiting for her, his arms and legs crossed, his nerves fragile, although his exterior suggested otherwise. He scanned his daughters’ face.  
"What did you tell him?" His voice was rather calm.  
"Nothing yet."  
"Good, let’s leave it at that. He will forget about it by tomorrow, I suppose… his mind is preoccupied with typical problems of boys his age, anyway." Hel took off her long cloak and remained standing.   
"I doubt it. He will pursue the truth until we give it to him.”  
"Well..." Loki stood to face her, "We will simply not tell him then, will we?"  
"Lies will benefit no one, father! Of all people, you should know that! The lies almost destroyed us. I admit that I was mostly to blame, but… he has a right to know that his father is not dead!"  
  
Loki’s eyes widened. Was she so foolish and unable to perceive the consequences of her words?  
He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her: "You listen to me, and listen well! He. Will. Not. Be. Told! For as long as I breathe, I shall see to that!" Hel rushed through the doors which connected this room to her own private sanctuary and fell on the bed shaking. She had anxiety attacks sometimes and was overstressed and confused. Unlike Loki, she had a problem with controlling herself. Guilt persuaded her to tell the boy; he should not be punished for her mistakes.  
  
After listening to her sobbing for a while, Loki followed her, took her in his arms and started rocking them both slowly: "Hush now, my precious. I know this must be hard for you to face, but we are in this together and in the end all shall be well. We cannot toy with Fenrir’s emotions. He is strong, yes, but not enough to deal with.... with what we had to. He will be proud to hear that his father was one of the bravest warriors in all of Asgard, who died saving his friends in a very nasty occupation back in Jotunheim. I would personally like to hear that for my own father... if I, myself was not a... Jotun." Loki actually jested.

  
She placed her face in the crook of his neck. She would never have him again and now she was losing their son as well: "Within few years he will be called by Odin to join the academy in Asgard. He will surely forget me then. And after that, you will leave permanently and... do not try to lie to me - you are here only because of him."  
Loki was surprised by how much of himself he had given to his family and yet he was still the one in question.  
"You know that these are nothing more than your poisonous thoughts, Hel. I will stay by your side whenever you need me, but you must fight them off. You are mature enough now to find someone else to keep you company."  
"Like who?"  
Loki smiled, "A husband, perhaps?"

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Fenrir was all about adventure and he revelled in discovering secrets. It would not be the first time that he had sneaked out from his warm bed and into the cold windy hall, for the sake of spying on others. Especially Modir and Grandfather. He despised it when they fought (verbally), but he had learned interesting information every time. Surely it was worth it?  
  
Tonight, he had a pretty good sense that something important would be said. At least by how the "days" had gone on. The theme would probably be no other but his Fadir. He craved to know all that was to be known.  
  
So he found himself once more in the shadows in front of his mothers’ chambers. Heavy doors muffled most of the words that were spoken, so he heard this: his mother weeping on the bed, something cracked... or someone hit someone... two people on the bed... Loki hushing her with the following words: "We are together... deal with what we had to... you need me...”  
The boy furrowed his brows not knowing what to think about that. So they did fight! She cried once more (unlike her cold representation of the queen she needed to be, as Hel, she was easy to break); little did he know how important this event would be for his future. He heard some of the servants approaching, so he sneaked back into his welcoming, large bed.  
  
He would not sleep tonight.

 

 


	10. Where the home is ...

         as it was said ,it proceeded-a year or so after Otr’s departure, Odin sent the diplomats to take Fenrir to Asgard. She had feared this more than anything. Odin had his reasons for binding her to this place, and he was stealing Fenrir from her grasp in a very calculating way.  
  
When the noblemen arrived, Hel was on the very edge of her nerves - she was holding her black scepter in her right hand, and with the other - Fenrir. Her skeleton hand, although well hidden under a wide long sleeve, was digging into the boys flesh. She was not aware of it, of course.  
Her maternal instincts were alarming her - these intruders were nothing more than thieves in fine clothes. Their goal was to take her son and corrupt him. Asgard was breathtaking on the outside, but on the inside the poison dripped from every corner. Asgardians were decadent and vain; they fed on scandals and others misery and failures. They took and killed and craved for more power, more gold - more of anything that was not theirs. It was the very opposite of Nifelheim -which was the most horrifying land of all, but built on the back of trustworthy, kind people. There were no whore houses, taverns or temples to sinfulness of any kind. Nifelheim was for purification. Hel found out that on her own skin so many times.  
  
She lifted her head, piercing them with her completely black eyes. She would fight them if she had to.  
  
"Five of those who wish to die..." - she gritted her teeth.  
  
One of the men bowed in respect: "Queen of Nifelheim, granddaughter of Odin, Allfather, we greet you.”  
  
She smirked cynically.  
  
"As you are fully aware, your Highness, the Allfather has requested young prince Fenrir Helson’s presence at the royal academy, where the best scholars and tutors of all kind share their knowledge with prospective students. The very best of them shall stay in the service of the king. It is a rare chance to be given."  
  
He was choosing his words carefully - he knew that the prince possessed the dark gift of shifting, and Odin would certainly take this as an advantage and make a weapon out of her son.  
  
"And what if I refuse to let him go? What if I ...stop you?"  
  
"We came here with glad tidings, my lady! This ... environment is not healthy for a unique boy such as your son. Prince Fenrir will have more than enough of everything he desires, not to mention that his social skills will improve."  
  
"There is nothing wrong with his social skills and if you mean that as a euphemism for his ... lets say, temperamental nature.... you will regret every word you have just spoken."  
  
"My queen! I beg you - the Allfather has stated that if anything happens to us, you will never see the boy again..... but... if you let us take him to the royal academy then you may visit him when allowed."  
  
Fenrir saw the rage in her and its possible consequences; she was gripping her scepter too tight and preparing herself to stab it through the man’s chest.  
  
He acted urgently. "Mother..."  
  
She lowered her gaze and then looked softly at him.  
  
"I shall go with these men and I will study really hard. One day I will be the greatest warrior of them all! Even Prince Thor, you will see. Please don't be sad. As the nobleman said - we will see each other."  
  
Hel had no options. She knew she had to let him go.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Little Fenrir could never have imagined how many wonders were in the realm of the sun. He was bedazzled by the floating architecture, colors he has never laid eyes upon before, flowers, rich smells and the people! They looked strange to him at first - with meat on their bones, pink skin, long soft hair; their traditions and culture. Fen was not adapted to the gossiping and thirst for possessions he saw here. His days (nights) in Nifelheim had passed without much fuss. Here were the cynics he had to face. His good nature, open mind and honesty had instantly attracted a few loyal friends to him and he was overjoyed. They were so distinct from Otr and other servants.   
  
They shared numerous hobbies and ideals, they played the same games, climbed trees, rolled in the mud, outraced one another, shared ridiculous jokes and even their personal stories. However, he was not ready to meet a group of bullies, who had hated him ever since they heard him to be the son of Hel.  
  
Fenrir spent a short amount of time learning, yet his grades were high. His strength and speed were superior to those the other boys possessed. He became the prime target for all the vicious rumors. He was ignored and sometimes framed when it came to the tests. Sons of the Asgardian elite would tell the tutors that he cheated or had stolen the questions - lies, lies, lies! One day, as he chatted with few of his friends outside the classroom, a group of four boys surrounded him.  
A tall blond one, Valdi, pushed him to the wall grinning. “Hey, isn't this the son of that witch? I heard that the reason your mother was banished from Asgard was because she is so ugly!”  
The other boys just laughed at that.  
One of Fenrir’s friends stepped to help him.  
"Valdi, leave him alone! We don't want any trouble!"  
"Oh is that so?" One of Valdi’s boys punched him.  
  
Fenrir freed himself from the grip - "You will regret this!"  
"Hahahaha... I also heard that your mother probably has killed your father so that she can keep him. Odin pitied the poor man and sent him to Valhalla."  
"You. Shall. Not. Talk. About. Her. Like. That! Apologize!"  
Valdi punched him in the stomach instead. "You are a monster just like her - you disgust me. The only reason you are here is because Loki is Odin’s son!"  
  
One of the bullies added: "My brother told me that he heard that Loki is your father."  
Valdi jumped with joy at that! "That explains it then! You are a freak and a bastard! Hahahaha. You even look like Loki."  
  
That was too much for Fen. His anger was so strong and now any control he had possessed was replaced by the desire to rip their heads off.  
  


  
  
He growled in the most inhuman tone... his spine started bending and he started to grow in height. His face elongated and fur appeared and covered his skin. His teeth became large and sharp - not to mention his claws.  
  
Within seconds, in the place of a thin pale boy there was now a werewolf of at least two meters tall.  
  
Fenrir bit Valdi on the shoulder and the other boys started to run away, screaming for help.  
Fenrir would have killed Valdi if it had not been for Frigga, who used her seidr to turn him back. Luckily, she had heard that boys were torturing Fenrir, but his transformation came as a shock.  
They managed to save Valdi’s arm, but Fenrir was locked up in his room until the decision was made that he could continue with his studies. However, if he injured anyone he would be returned to Nifelheim forever and if he killed someone - the sentence would be... death.  
  
Odin was strict and showed no emotions or mercy. Loki had to stay with his son and completely forget about Hel. Fenrir needed to find his self control again, which was almost impossible during the two full moons. In his home land, they had only one moon which appeared in the starless sky every 50 years. Here in Asgard, he would be chained in the deepest dungeons during the dangerous times, and Loki would stay with him - bringing him water and food and talking to him; telling him stories, so that the boy would not lose the memory of his human self.  
  
Fenrir was aware of his surroundings and all the happenings, but he was so strong now; there were no limitations. He felt comfortable like this - he could do anything! His instincts were primary and his logic of secondary nature. Loki’s heart ached as he saw his son like this - treated as a monster and he had only defended his mother’s honor. Yes, Asgard was cruel. If Odin, for some mysterious reason only he knew, hadn't commanded young Fenrir to stay in this hypocritical place, Loki would have taken him home instantly. He would forsake this place as well. He would forget about the possibility of finding Hel a husband or even himself a wife. This was, indeed, not the place for his family. Home is where your loved ones are.  
  
____________________________________________________  
  
   
  
There was a full moon in Nifelheim... an enchanting purple moon after more than 50 years. Hel was sitting on a bench that was placed near the edge of the cliff. Deep down below was a black river - over crowded with the souls of those who had committed suicide. They could not get to the surface, but their desperate voices were carried by the wind.  
This place was melancholic and Hel sympathized with them. She was trapped in her own punishment; among so many, yet so alone.  
She sang to the moon, hoping her son would hear her and know that she always thought of him. This was her way of sending him her love. It was an old lullaby that Loki sang to her and she to Fenrir when he was a baby. Strangely enough, Fenrir heard her.

(the song could be something like this:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FOFMatY2uwU   )

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some comments u guys,please...


	11. Death of Fandral The Dashing..

      
Finally, the day had arrived. Fenrir, now a young man of nearly eighteen years, stood proudly among the ten best students in his generation. The first three would be titled as personal King’s advisers, while the rest would fight along with the Warriors Three within a few years. Loki was in a large crowd that cheered and greeted the best of the best. Although his chest was filled with pride, he knew that Fen was in third place at worst and not the 8th as the old scholar read from that bloody scroll of his. But they would never admit that. Hypocrites! Fen saw him and mother from the opposite side of the colorfully decorated hall and smiled widely. They returned with the same. Loki placed his hand over Hel’s shoulder and she leaned on him. Rumors started to circle the hall but they paid no attention; it was their son’s day.  
It was a shame that Fen went for the title of royal swordsman, when he easily could be among the seidr masters. It would be far less dangerous for the young prince, but in his stubbornness he saw no further than to resemble his "father" and to make his mother happy. He knew how much she loved him. She would often cry and say that she missed him. The way they once were...

 

"Well, dearest mother. This is for you. I have conquered all the obstacles and I am standing now in the main hall with the hope that my learning does not stop here. I wish to be an even better man than I already am." he thought. He was incredibly grateful that the corruption and scandals could not change who he really was. He stayed humble, loyal and free within his mind and managed to keep true friendship with some boys through all the centuries. It was not easy - many feared him, some tutors even gave him lesser grades - it was a subjective decision, to say the least. But he truly did not care; the title does not make a man, the heart does. He had been told that in his early age - he was raised that way.

l  
Loki victoriously grinned as he saw Valdi among the top 30, and that was exaggerated. He would be in a lower position if his official father was not in the royal council. "Official father", for his real one had planted a few more young man and girls in this very hall; all of l them had blond hair, cute dimples, almond eyes with long lashes and starved for gossip. Now, that was an irony - Valdi mocked Fenrir for his heritage, yet only his mother knew that his biological father was no other than that Asgardian man-whore himself. Fandral was clueless of how many illegitimate children he had. Loki could track them all down with his seidr. Almost every fifth child here! Hahahaha!

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the titles were announced, young men and women rejoined with their families. That went in a cheerful tone. Fenrir was glowing; this was the first time Hel had been invited to the realm, and the evil tongues would stop spreading lies of her deformities. She was a beauty and it was hard for the young Lycan to remove himself from her embrace. He promised to show her the land to tell her about his adventures. A few hours later it was a time for mingling and exchanging irrelevant conversation with as many court members as one could manage. Hel hated this - the shallow words of women about who wore what and who was cheating on their partner - so boring! She wanted to talk about philosophy, art, history, literature, magic, and theology - but, no.... Asgardian women were mostly raised to be good wives and had no need to learn anything besides how to knit, dress, dance and charm men. Hel rolled her eyes.  
  
Fenrir was now with his fellow graduates and Loki with his occasional lover, Valera. She seemed to be a decent, eloquent and well mannered half-Elvish lady.... and seeing Loki as he danced with her... Hel felt her jealousy written all over her face, but on the outside she simply looked cold as a stone. She had no right to despise such a lovely creature as Valera. She made him… happy, something Hel had tried to do, but had not succeeded. Loki said that he intended to marry her now, since Fenrir was all grown up and, of course, Thor had to spread the word that Hel was in a search of a husband. Oh, her uncle was so stupid! How could she marry when even the most ideal man was nothing in comparison to her first and only love? But she had to move on; she could not be alone forever and her body craved for a man’s touch. If only her heart would allow it...

__________________________________________________________

  
The last time Fandral had seen Hel, she had been a shy little girl, and now… she was the most beautiful creature he had laid his eyes upon. Without any exaggeration - she was almost ethereal - with her large eyes and full red lips. With her long silky hair and voice made of honey. Although thin, she had the figure of a sand clock and large breasts. His jaw just dropped! Her obvious disabilities were now a part of his fantasies. He had expanded his kinks during all this time - he could envision her beneath him, moaning in ecstasy... making deep scars on his back and torso with that hand of hers... and licking the blood off afterwards. Oh, what he could do to her...  
He eyed the suitors who waited in line to speak with the young Queen and he was damned if he would not be the first to do so. To marry Odin’s granddaughter was a privilege. She was pretending to listen to some woman and her explanation of how it is a shame for a woman to wear the same hairstyle for a few days continuously.  
  
"Well, well, well… don't tell me, this is the same girl that used to hide under the table! Queen Hel - you are a vision!" Fandral bowed and the other lady excused herself. It was well known that when Fandral flirted with a woman, they would probably end up in bed with him, so she left them with a wickedly wide smile and a new gossip to tell.  
"Lord Fandral! You, on the other hand, have not changed a bit.” - Well overall, he hadn't. A few wrinkles around the eyes and grey hair made him more attractive and gave him an experienced and wiser look. That scar along his cheekbone, Hel recognized; not as a result of a blade, but a trace of a nail. Obviously an attack from a jealous lover.  
  
"May I ask you for a dance?” He asked.  
"Thank you, but no. Unfortunately, I am not much of a dancer and I am tired - the promotion lasted longer than I thought it would".  
"Ah yes, the young Prince. He is a fine swordsman. I was his tutor for a few lessons as well. I presume you and Loki are proud of Prince Fenrir and I believe his father would be, too." Hel was quiet now. "Yes, yes he would.”  
  
Fandral shortened the distance between them. "I beg your pardon, but I seem to have forgotten his name. I only heard that he died in the war with Jotunheim 2000 years ago."  
Hel saw through his facade and took a deep breath to calm herself. He deserved a scar on the other cheek as well!  
"Lord Fandral, you are asking a lot of questions... the wound still hurts and I would like not to discuss any personal matters at the present time. Now… if you will excuse me?"  
"Certainly, my lady… and forgive my ignorance.”  
  
What a sarcastic egoist! She thought as she tried to disappear into the crowd. She wanted to avoid his pompousness. His tongue was faster than Thor’s hammer! It would only take a few wrong words for him to make all kinds of presumptions and the whole court would know... why did she like him all those years ago? There was nothing underneath his attractive appearance -only layers of self love, lies, alcoholism and whoring. He was indeed an obnoxious creature.

  
  
Hel had a dark secret - and Fandral was more than willing to explore it. Even if she grieved for her dead lover, she would not refuse to talk about him. She had not even mentioned his name. He did ask Fen after their sparring about that mysterious man, but the name the boy gave him was nowhere in the archive. Like he did not exist, which simply could not be.  
The majority of the court was at the feast or walking in the park, so he nonchalantly took the opportunity to sneak into Hel’s room for answers.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

  
It was just another guest room... The blond warrior started with the closets - a search for some kind of symbolic memory, a gift, picture or letter resulted with - nothing. Hel brought only some dresses, perfumes and jewellery for Frigga.  
"Damn!" Fandral turned around in case he had missed anything. But all was or wasn't here. Hel was discrete just as - Loki!  
Yes – that’s right – Loki’s room was down the hall. It would be risky, but... Fandral was cocky and had wide experience with entering into others private chambers.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Since Loki was permanently residing here, his room was twice the size of a guest room and had side doors that led into his bedroom.  
Hmmmmmmm... Loki was no fool; he would not place something valuable in the closet or night stand. A secret storage place - that was more like it - but where? Under wall carpets - or behind that massive book shelf?  
Just then the doors opened... Fandral had no time to think - he was under the bed within seconds. He saw two pair of boots. The black ones were definitely Loki s and the silver ones were Thor’s. They were in the main room, so it was not easy to hear them. There was the sound of bottles and glasses and their contact with the table surface.  
"Would you like something to drink?" Loki asked.  
"Aye… anything you got little brother. Today is a day to leave all your worries behind. Young Fenrir is to be a great warrior!" Thor’s voice was cheerful.  
  
Loki gave Thor the goblet. Fandral could smell the bitter sweet scent - he knew exactly which wine it was.  
"Yessss...." Loki added without excitement. "He chose the path he thought his "father" would want him to take."  
"So, you have not told him yet?"  
"And what would I tell him, Thor? That I AM his father!? This is too dangerous for anyone to know, especially a boy such as he.... who knows what he would do if...if..."  
  
Fandral almost choked at that - he had to bite his hand to prevent himself from making any sound.  
"I am sorry Loki" Thor agreed. There was now sadness in his voice - and understanding. Now he was searching for another topic to talk about.  
"What about my niece? Has she found a suitable suitor? I saw many looking at her. She is quite a beauty and there should be no problem for her to marry."  
Loki sat on the chair facing the window. He drank some wine and said "I don't believe her to be interested in men. I tried to advise her, but..." He sighed.  
"But?" Thor just couldn't think logically, now, could he...?  
"Look Thor, Hel suffered so much after giving birth to Fenrir. She was very depressed and had anxiety attacks that lasted for years... I will never forgive myself for what I have done, but I love both her and Fenrir. She does have to move on and find someone, but she breaks easily and that will not be an easy task... There aren't many men there who would take care of her as I have."  
Loki was lost in thoughts, sipping red wine, so Thor, unaccustomed to silence, placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and changed the tone of conversation: "Worry not. All shall be well in the end. The dark days are behind us and we shall drink to that - but not here. Come; let us join our families and friends."  
"You know... that is the smartest thing you said… ever!" Loki smiled, but his eyes still had sorrow in them.

  
  
When the two men closed the doors behind them, Fandral crawled out of his hideout. This was some shocking news - so Fenrir was indeed Loki’s son… and that psychopathic black sorcerer had just admit that he raped his own daughter for years... and Thor knew all about it and kept it as a secret for all this time...? It all made sense... the boy actually resembled Loki when he was his age. An illness was the basis to this family.  
  
He had to do something - but what? If he spoke about this to the Allfather, Loki would be sentenced to torture and death... but Hel will look upon him with gratefulness.... So, if Fandral ever wished to marry her one day, he would have to take drastic measures.  
He stormed out of Loki’s room without any caution. He hadn't even heard the footsteps behind him. Probably because there weren't any…  
  
"Fandral!" -it was Hel... he turned to face her.  
"What were you doing in my father’s chambers?" There was no point lying to her; he actually pitied her - thrown into Nifelheim, with nowhere to run or hide from that Jotun bastard. The poor girl... Hel stopped aging a few years after she bore Fenrir. She looked almost as if she was his sister. Blame it on the Jotun origin.... Loki looked only a few years older than Hel. Her youthful appearance made her appear more vulnerable than she truly was.  
  
"I know!"  
"Know what?"  
"I know that Loki is Fenrir’s father! And do not deny it. I heard him myself. I know what he has done to you, Hel." She was stricken. Her eyes widened. She could not believe that this vulgar man had found out the truth she had been hiding for almost 2000 years. She instinctively hid her face with her hand. She felt so ashamed and now everyone would know... even... Fenrir...  
  
Fandral gently rubbed her back: "You don't have to hide anymore. Loki will be punished for his actions. I am on my way to tell the council..."  
"Wait, what? You can not do that! He did nothing wrong!"  
"Why are you defending him? You and your son are the victims here!"  
"For the sake of Fenrir, for his sake you will forsake this decision!"  
"Hel... darling Hel... for his sake - I will tell… he deserves to have a worthy and good father - not an imaginary one who covers the tracks of that... monster..!"  
"No! I understand your concern and I am grateful, but I will stop you if you take another step towards that hall..."  
  
He was determined, and the more she defended her father, the weaker Fandral took her to be: "One day you will be grateful for this and maybe... you will think then abut my marriage proposal..."  
"Never! I will never marry you Fandral. Please do not make this any more difficult than it already is, please!"  
  
Fandral said nothing and proceeded in his intended direction. Hel ran after him and tried to stop him by grabbing his tunic, but everything happened so fast: her hand, the non-human one, had its purpose. After all, it had a will of its own. Hel mostly used it for magic, but it was also incredibly strong. It knew when Hel was in trouble and its mission was to kill anyone who found himself in her way. Instead of grabbing the tunic, the hand made a hole in his chest.... within a second he was on the floor in a large puddle of blood. The hand was holding his still beating heart...

 


	12. Family affair..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this the ugly part...  
> p.s.-when it came to the decision who looks like loki n hell,i recalled watching dorian grey (the new version with barnes..).he does have that cheekbones and eye shape...lol.due to his clothes there will be some pics from the prince caspian...few more chapters to go....the pictures are the summaries of the chapters-just to mention it.

  
  
The dark red fluid was still spreading around the two of them... the contrast to the pale yellow and white walls made it look even more visceral. Hel’s dress and hands were soaking in it.   
  
The dark energy from her left hand vanished – it had served its goal - the enemy was defeated... She fell to her knees bewildered as to what to do - this was not his time to go! He could do so much, he could change his ways and be a better person... But now his soul was lost between the worlds forever to haunt this place and its people. A soul unable to reach its final destination - without the punishments to purify it for its last trip to Valhalla... It was a cruel fate, even for such as he. Hel refused to think what HER final destination would be one day... she had sinned and destroyed and destroyed and sinned; whenever she fell she pulled someone along with her... She closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts, then she placed his heart back into its original place in his chest. A wave with her other hand made the wound partially close itself. Now it seemed to be a typical wound made by a sword... Hel hated lies, but could not outrun them. She wanted nothing more than to heal him, to hear him breathing, to repair all that could be repaired... She would marry him if that would revive him! That would be her punishment and, perhaps her eternal one would not be as horrible as she knew it must.  
  
There was the sound of footsteps... she didn't think; her actions were instinctive - she transformed into a shadow and became one with the black columns, but she stayed to witness the outcomes of her crime. It was a guard. Her eyes followed him across the hall as he discovered one of the warriors three lying in a large amount of blood and called for help. Soon there were ten of them spreading bloody footprints all over the pearl white floor.  
  
"Who would done such a thing?!” One guard asked. Another turned Fandral’s body over to examine the wound more closely.   
"Hmmm... just as I thought... He obviously participated in another duel. This time, the enraged husband won it seems!"  
"Such a shame! There are few men courageous as he. He trained my son - the boy looked up to him."  
The other guard shook his head, "We have to inform the King. Is the feast over? We do not want to disturb the children and ladies; they will not take this easily." The first guard nodded.   
"The feast is at its end, Huggard."  
"very well then ,lets go."

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
The word of Fandral’s death echoed like a cold storm through the whole of Asgard. Many mourned the brave warrior. He had fought and helped Thor to return victoriously from numerous battles and yet he had died, it seemed, by the hand of a jealous man. It was tragic. Women refused to believe at first, but when it came to the funeral (which was an expensive one as befitted a nobleman), their emotions came to the surface. Some accused their husbands of being the killer, others pulled their hair out in agony. Some confessed their affairs with the blond warrior and some even attempted suicide. Fandral, in his egoism, hedonism and thirst for adventure, had touched so many. He was loved...

  
The pain and guilt only increased because of that. Hel could not attend the funeral - she remained in the shadows for days. No one thought of her except for Loki and Fenrir, but they did not think her behaviour unusual; her mood swings were not uncommon. Fandral had been her suitor and she was most likely grieving in her own way. Accusations were tossed upon so many innocent men, for it appeared that the murderer was a man and all who were not present at the feast that night had to go through extremely unpleasant interrogation. Who would suspect Hel, a mere woman, of doing this? Even Heimdall did not see her pull Fandral s heart out – Hel’s energy was the one of darkness and the golden guardian could see just that - darkness and shadows - shapes and mist.

The thunder and lightning ripped the skies for days – Thor’s roar was heard miles away - he raged through the rooms and halls, hitting everything and anyone in his way. Whoever had killed his childhood friend would face a terrible fate! Even Heimdall was to be interrogated - for he was not at the feast. But Loki had been there - side by side with his brother, and this was the first time for him to be free of any charges. It felt strange, yet weirdly amusing. To have Fandral for a son-in-law was beyond any logic; they had quarrelled frequently ever since Loki could remember and that pompous blond only mocked him. He was also so much older than Hel. And she, although she would not admit it herself, lived for love. But Loki knew. He saw her in Fandral’s company, and would have known if the attraction was mutual. If it had, then Loki would have accepted that and given them his blessings. Fandral and Hel were extreme opposites, but maybe that was what brought them together. Then again, if Loki had heard that this… this womanizer had hurt his daughter, then he would have slit his throat! But that was irrelevant now; Fandral was no more.  
  
After having a heart aching talk with Frigga, Loki retired to get some rest. The days were exhausting for everyone and Thor refused to see anyone except Frigga. She told the raven haired prince about his brother’s state and it was not promising. Thor never could deal with pain and feelings and this time his being was torn apart by the loss of his dear friend. Loki stopped a few meters from his own chambers - that was the spot where the body had laid. Loki never liked Fandral and vice versa, but he wished such a senseless death on no one. Even Fandral deserved better. But... what had he been doing in this hallway? He had never seen him here before. Yes, there were twenty private chambers with forty ladies and around twenty maids, but… something was just amiss.

 

. ------------------------------------------------------------

The bed welcomed him with open arms and Loki felt his body relaxing and accepting the approaching dreams. Suddenly a small talisman fell from a shelf to the floor. Loki jumped to his feet, but there was no one - only shadows. He took a deep breath and expanded his hands towards them. A hand was formed from nothing and then the whole body of a young woman slowly emerged from the darkness.  
"What are you doing here, Hel?" He asked irritably. He was so tired and his body cried out for a bit of rest. Whatever it was, he had no strength to deal with it right now. She looked no better - she hadn't slept, nor nourished herself for days. Her eyes were red, her hands shaking... she fell to the floor sobbing, "It was my fault... it was my fault… I… I killed him!"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Just as the other students, Fenrir was devastated by the loss of Fandral. The funeral itself was very tasteful and rich by Asgardian standards, but it was impossible to stand there, hearing so many people cry… so much sorrow in their eyes… it pierced through the young Fenrir. He only knew death from a different perspective. He had seen the dead; in all shapes and forms, but he never thought he would cry today. Everyone dies; it is inevitable, but after the first tear, there was another and another... Calming warmth claimed his body. The death of his tutor was an unfair one - as much as all the mocking he had to deal with and the lack of self esteem he had sometimes because of it. And the separation from his family so many centuries ago - he was finally freeing himself from all of that through the tears... The death was only a trigger that helped him confront all he stored deep within himself. The moment when Fandral’s soul was to reach for the heavens... nothing happened. Fenrir was the only one to notice this. He looked around him; how had no one seen that there was a total lack of energetic particles that should be dancing in the wind and disappearing in the flash of silver light... what did it mean? His soul was to enter the golden gates of Valhalla, but there was no soul! Fenrir nervously waited for the ceremony to end and run to search for Hel. She would know.

\----------------------------------------------

  
He knocked at the large door. Once... twice... five times...   
“Mother? Mother, are you there?" Nothing.... that moment he felt a chill going through his body... like the cold wind. In the corner of his eye - it lasted less than a second, but... he saw Fandral right there - looking at him with dull eyes and with a large whole in his chest. Fenrir stopped breathing for a moment. He blinked few times. It was just a figment of his imagination, nothing more... He shook his head, but the chill was still there. He decided to pay no mind to it and opened the door. Hel’s room was empty. In fact it looked untouched for days. He turned on his heels. His walk was fast and determined. His footsteps stopped in front of the black doors with the pictures of green leaves and golden runes – Loki’s chambers. He again wanted to knock, but then he heard voices - Hel was in there and they were having a nasty fight.

\-----------------------------------------------

  
Loki slammed his fist to the table surface.  
  
"By the Norns, Hel, can’t you do anything right!?"  
  
They were in Loki’s bedroom and the doors were partially open. Fenrir hid himself behind them. He glanced at his young modir. She was scared and tried to avoid being in his grandfather’s way while he hysterically paced around the room.  
"I didn't do it! Not by my own will. It was beyond my control! The cursed hand...!" Loki grabbed her left hand to observe it. Only he, with the usage of his magic, could see the black energy surrounding it. He released her.  
  
"So you tell the truth... but why did it react towards him in such a way? What did he threaten you with?"   
  
Hel wiped her tears with a silk handkerchief and sat on the bed.  
"He was going to tell... uh... our secret."   
  
Loki lifted her chin so that she was looking right into his eyes. She was not lying.  
"He wanted to tell Odin that you are Fenrir’s real father and... and that you forced yourself upon me." she sobbed.  
"He must have heard me with Thor… Arghh! Him and his intrigues... besides, Odin knows this; that’s why he sent you to Nihelheim in the first place, so that he could prevent us… from having a child.”  
  
The last words were almost a whisper.  
  
"But he wanted to tell the council as well. And then there would have been no escaping the punishment, Father! All of Asgard would have demanded your execution! I am sorry… I have asked for your forgiveness so many times… but I couldn't let you die! My body reacted this way to save you."  
  
She buried her face in the pillows. Loki sighed and set next her. He removed he hair from her pale face and gave her a kiss to the forehead.  
  
"It was all for the best, my dear... perhaps the Norns have smiled upon us. Now Fenrir will never find out who his father is and maybe this will make us even closer - as a real family should be."  
  
She smiled. There was new hope in her eyes.  
  
Then they heard the sound of the door opening... their eyes widened in shock.  
  
Fenrir was standing there, a shadow of pure horror laid on his face.  
  
"This can not be true!" his voice trembled...

 


	13. Forgive me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please comment...if there are some mistakes,im sorry..it is obviously not deliberate .also see chapter 9 so that you can understand fenrir s memories.

        
  
Two days... two days filled with rising madness... and Fenrir was drowning in it. Locked up and rotting in his room... sitting both with crossed legs and arms, rocking himself and murmuring nonsense. He was humming something; what exactly, he didn't know. He was aware that many things had been unknown to him. Until now. This gentle song... was it the lullaby that was sung to him when he was a little boy?  
  
His exhausted body felt as if it had become a part of the dark; all the curtains were drawn over the windows. Except for one candle, placed on the small ebony table, anything that might chase the dark away was prohibited from entering the room. He could not stand to see anything. Even less to be seen by anyone. The corner in which he sat behind the bed was merciful to him; he could think here. He could maybe in his asceticism gain some pity from the Norns... then his grotesque fate would be erased and replaced with a better one. Maybe... But he didn't know… He didn’t know many things... Was it day or night? Would he ever get the gift of grace from the destiny makers or would he die here...? However, he could not argue with that possible outcome.  
  
"....Modir... my poor, dear mother..." He was shaking his head, letting tears fall all over his face. "I WILL MURDER HIM! THAT... BASTARD"!  
  
He screamed and collapsed to the floor, moving himself as close towards the wall as he could manage. The coldness of the room was soothing; it felt like... home. Like it once had - where everything was alright. When he’d had no worries, where he had been happy, free, protected. It was the time when he had thought he had a family...  
  
The voice in his mind stopped the loving memories and warned him - he should not be looking through the eyes of a child! He had to see the reality. The truth. He had to confront it, no matter the consequences. He was a man now - he had to see... His mind opened the doors to all that was hidden from him - pictures... voices... shapes… all made perfect sense... All this took place in front of him, yet he was blind.  
How could he have forgotten? How could he?  
  
He was simpleton… a bloody fool...

 

  
  
All those times Hel and Loki were "discussing something", not fighting... discussing, as Loki eloquently put it. And where else than in her very room! Little Fenrir could hear her while he was spying in the hallway… She cried, she was struggling... probably from his firm grip.  
  
Fenrir’s eyes widened in the blackness as he envisioned what happened behind the closed doors.  
  
She tried to escape him, running to her bedroom. Loki would open the door with his seidr... there were the sounds of two people on the bed... Hel begged and Loki would hush her: "Shhh, it’s alright... be quiet now, we don't want Fenrir to hear us, do we?"  
  
Hel would try to silence herself, for the sake of her child. For her voice was desperation itself. Fenrir felt sick... his whole body convulsing. He barely managed to get to the bathroom, where he threw up - mostly water, because that was all he consumed after… after… he heard them...  
  
All those times Loki would rape Hel... over and over again… for centuries! And she suffered in silence, pretending before Fen that everything was alright, that they were indeed a family. She wanted him to have a normal childhood... something she never had.  
  
"I am sorry mother... I am so sorry... I didn't know... and how could I?" He hit the back of his head few times on the wall. The pain did nothing to shift his "memories", or to divert his attention towards something else. He didn't need any more proof - he had more than enough of them. He forced himself to crawl back to his dusty corner; his sanctuary.

  
Then he recalled his first memory ever. When he was only two years old... a small boy was sitting in front of a fire place and smiling brightly at his mother. He succeeded in placing some cubes in order only he found fitting and waited for her approval. She hugged him, as she had done so many times. He loved when she did that. She had soft skin and cheeks and had a smell he didn't know how to describe, but it smelled like… mama. His darling mama… his protector and his everything. She kissed him all over his chubby face and slightly pinched his nose. Fenrir was giggling and jumping... then something scared him... Hel wasn't surprised and stayed calm. The green smoke filled the room and from it a tall, frightening man appeared. Fenrir looked at him with the curiosity and the intuition of a child. He felt so much negativity that surrounded the man’s energy field, he wanted to cry and for his mother to send the awful stranger away.  
  
"How is he, Hel?" His voice was deep and Fenrir hid his head in his mother’s lap. She, for some reason, refused to look into the man’s eyes.  
"He is well... he is growing very fast and he is a clever little boy. It is just matter of time until he starts to speak."  
"Ooooh… I can see that..." The man then took the boy into his arms. Fenrir was equally alarmed and surprised - he was not expecting this! He cried for Hel.  
The man showed his teeth and Fen froze.  
  
"Now, now my son. You must learn to behave... I see you have inherited your mother’s mood... I shall have to come more often and teach you to act as a true Prince… for that is what you are. You must never forget that."  
Loki jested... and smiled to soothe the boy, however he never expected Fenrir to reject him. He stopped crying when Hel took his little body and placed him in a crib.  
Loki said nothing for along time. He decided then and there that Fenrir would never hate him for any reason ever again. That was the last time Fenrir heard Loki call him his son.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"My son..." Fenrir repeated, whispering the words, his mood drastically changing. Oh, he indeed was the son of Hel... the hysteria overtook him. He laughed and spun around the room until he was too dizzy and ended on the bed. He felt that weird chill again, like the one he felt in the hallway when he "saw" Fandral... like it was trying to comfort him... to say something to him... but Fenrir’s mind and sanity were closed behind the darkness of his own perception. He was not aware that he was crying again. His pillow was wet, which helped accentuate the all-present coldness...  
  
"I will avenge you mother… I will kill him for what he did… I hate him so much..." He covered himself over his head with the blankets. He was to be blamed as well... Hel’s torture lasted too long.  
  
   
  
"Mother forgive me... please. Forgive me…  
  
   
  
for existing...”  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Loki’s patience had run out... He was facing the ebony doors of his son’s chambers. His heart was beating too fast and his limbs refused to move. He was deeply afraid of what he would find on the other side of the doors. He listened carefully - there no sound whatsoever and he couldn't take it any more, so he gently knocked:  
  
"Fenrir...?" He prayed that he had not harmed himself, or worse. He was an unpredictable boy.  
  
Fenrir was on all fours - still in his human form, except for the claws he used to rip the skin off his own torso. And before that he had used them on his walls, bed, floor... he was breathing manically, his nostrils widening, his gaze directed at the door. The very voice of that man behind them made his blood boil. His fangs started to grow and his body burned with fire... he needed to see and smell blood… he needed to kill.  
  
"Fenrir! I know that you are in there... If you don't open the door this moment, I will come in!"  
  
Fenrir growled with a very deep voice:  
  
"If you come inside, I will kill you... do you want to test me?!"

  
Loki sighed and stayed quiet for a few minutes. When he felt that Fenrir had somewhat gained control over himself again, he took the risk and unlocked the doors...  
  
The room was in absolute darkness, so he had to light the candles with a movement of his hand. The sight was disturbing... much like the one when Loki blamed himself for Hel’s banishment into the realm of the dead.  
  
Fenrir was standing in front of the window. He was covered with deep cuts and it was hard to believe that shirt to have once been white. There were all kinds of smells; stagnant blood, spilled wine, the smell of burned fabrics... Fenrir dragged his claw over the table surface, the sound similar to the one of honing bones. Loki raised his hands in a very surrendering gesture, and slowly sat on the closest chair. The black haired young man grabbed the table and threw it with all his strength aside and broke a pillar.  
  
"What. Do. You. Want?!” He spat. "The very sight of you makes me sick! You deserve to die for your actions, you freak!” With every sentence he was less and less understandable. His vocal cords were more and more like those of an animal. Those of a wolf.  
  
"Oh, my son... you can not imagine how long I have wanted to call you that... for all these centuries Hel and I lied to you, but only so that you could be raised as a normal child. I am here to say ..." Loki didn't really know which words to use. Anything could trigger Fenrir’s shifting.  
"You must know what happened between me and your mother was NOT my fault. She will confirm this. I can understand what are you feeling right now, but if you take any irrational decisions without hearing the truth, you may regret them."  
  
Fenrir’s face turned into a snarl. "Ooooooh, is that a threat, father? You would hurt me, yes?"  
Loki shook his head. "How can you say that?! I love you - you are my flesh and blood. There is nothing I would not do for your benefit and good."  
  
Fenrir grinned showing all those sharp teeth: "Would you die for me...?"  
  
Loki looked at him… his tired eyes were an endless labyrinth of pain with no more hope to light them. Would his nightmare never end...?  
  
Sighing sadly, he said quietly: "I would."  
"Good!"  
  
Now the large Lycan crossed the room with such speed that Loki had no time even to catch his breath before he realized...  
  
Fenrir’s iron-like claws stabbed him in the chest…

 


	14. This Is Madness...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry,the editing must wait...i am so tired myself.tnx to viewers and those who stepped here by an accident

  
  
Fenrir felt a pair of cold hands wrapping around his neck... nails digging into his skin... he growled in more in surprise than in pain and released his… biological father. Loki’s body was paralysed, and with the amount of blood he had lost, it was a miracle that he was not dead yet. Hel refused to look at him, for she knew that the very sight of the man she cared so much for, who had one foot on the other side, would make her not hesitate to run to his side. And that would send the events to the wrong course...she had to deal with her son first.  
  
In his half-human, half-wolf body and with his animal instincts, he was beyond reasoning; enraged, extremely strong and at least four meters tall. She was hanging on his back, squeezing his ribcage, crushing his lungs. Despite her being far smaller, her powers were something this beast could only dream of. But she had to be careful... she never knew when her black magic might awaken...  
  
"What are you doing mother?! Release me... now... the blood…" His speech was incoherent and difficult to understand. He, himself had lost a lot of his energy and concentration and it was an effort just to make words and not roars. Her actions were disturbing. She was saving her tormentor... why? She should stand by her son’s side and help him to end this pathetic being... Was she so lost under Loki’s control... had he damaged her mind that much? The Lycan’s fears were confirmed when the pale woman spoke:  
  
"I beseech you, my son, stop this! You… you can not kill your father! Loki has done nothing wrong! If you do not trust him, please trust me..."  
  
"NOOO!" - Fenrir had finally managed to break free from her tight grasp and tossed her over the room - to the very place where that ebony table lay. She fell over it and broke her spine. The horrifying sound of it made Fenrir freeze in his steps. He hadn't meant to... he had underestimated his own strength... his body slowly shifted to his normal state...  
  
"Nooooooo! Mother...no!!" he screamed out his agony.  
  
She was not reacting.  
  
Loki’s wounds had, in the mean time, partially healed. Hel’s plan had worked. If she had not diverted Fenrir’s attention... his vision was still blurry and the only things that informed him of the turmoil-like events were the sounds and noises.  


  
"Hel!" He screamed. He feared the worst. He needed to heal himself faster; who knew what had occurred? Fenrir didn't even notice him... the young man stared at his mother without a word... He was crying... and hugging his arms around himself.... had he killed her... had he?!  
  
"Uh... I… I am alright..." Hel’s voice was rough...she was crawling, dragging her lower body along, placing all her strength to her arms and hands. She looked like a broken doll. Seeing her like this made Fenrir want to dig his eyes out. Hurting his mother, intentionally or not, was something he would never forgive himself for. He bit his fist until he felt blood... His knees were so weak and he could not stand anymore... what had he done? Hel was deformed... her eyes wide, her breathing heavy...  
  
Loki was trying to get up; he felt his daughter’s agony.

 

   
She managed to grab the edge of something that looked like a closet, or what was left of it, and pulled herself up. She was shaking and bent herself over the large wooden surface. She expanded her right hand (the one she used for healing) and then grey smoke started to appear. The smoke created the form of a ball and let itself be absorbed into her spine. The sounds of bones being replaced filled the room. Hel breathed out with both relief and exhaustion. Her spine was healed and she slowly straightened herself up. Loki was now also standing... his vision was still in the process of improving. The bond he and his daughter shared informed him of her current state and he thanked the gods for this. There was silence - a most uncomfortable silence... They all looked at each other... every word, every movement could be wrong. The silence mocked them and continued to pierce through their beings - minds, souls, hearts and bodies… It was toying with them... all this could end now... but in what way...?  
  
After an immeasurable amount of time had passed, the young man found himself in his mother’s arms. He muttered excuses... refused to look at her. She was fine... but he was ashamed. He deserved her rejection. He deserved her rage upon him, but no - she just ran her fingers through his black hair. Although he was taller than her, he now seemed so small and fragile. She could not help but to smile slightly looking at Loki...  
  
It is over...  
  
Her father nodded back at her ...it is over...  
  
Loki’s desire to make contact with his unfortunate family made him move too fast; he wanted to place a sleeping spell upon Fenrir. He would need that opportunity to take him to the healers... there was no other way. Fenrir’s head snapped round... and his teary eyes filed with animalistic rage yet gain... Hel tried to grab him, but he jumped and shortened the distance between him and Loki within a second. Even though a human, his teeth were sharp and voice deep...  
  
"Do not think I have forgotten about our little ‘discussion’ …a term you like to use for the act of violence ..."  
  
Fenrir was lost. No speech could help the boy. He had to use his siedr. With the movement of his hands, he created invisible chains and tied them around his son.  
  
Fenrir roared. He tried to set himself free by using his muscles, but that was pointless. Loki’s spell was too strong and could be broken only with another. When he eventually calmed himself down, he succeeded in recalling such a spell. He knew the exact words to say... and the binding chains were broken.  
Loki couldn't believe it; He had never seen Fenrir do something like that. He personally had never taught him this and the boy just couldn't possibly be that powerful.  
Fenrir grinned - "I may not be as mighty as you... but I have had the same tutors... they were most helpful."  
  
Hel couldn't help either of them... her left hand was sensing danger and the blackness from it could possibly kill the ones she loved the most. Such uselessness both enraged her, scared her and made her hate herself. Once more her wretched, disgusting body was failing her! She should fight for her family and not hide in the damn shadows...  
  
Loki read her emotions; he had to face his son and the irony of it could not be any more poignant. Fenrir hated him and craved his blood.

He felt defeated and pleaded with his son… "This is not the boy I once knew... that sweet, intelligent boy who made his mother so happy..." Loki wanted to mention himself, but since Fenrir’s point of view was so deranged, carefulness was the path upon which he decided to tread. The less he said and the clearer he spoke, the better.  
Hel felt Loki’s intentions and continued in that manner, too: "Son, if you do not want to end this dark vengeance of yours for your own sake, then please do it for me! I am so tired Fenrir...."  
  
Fenrir’s hand ran through his hair and down his face, his nail scratching his cheek bones... the confusion... he was staring in front of himself slowly pacing the room... making all sorts of calculations and possible outcomes... the common logic versus his own...  
  
But there it was again - that dominating voice in his mind... laughing –  
  
"What a fool you were! And still are. And will be... Will you let this go...? You called him a bastard... oh, no, no… No - you, dear boy - are a bastard... The god of lies has bewitched your mother! Will you let him do this to you? You are a warrior now! You must fight with your enemy… fight with honor..."  
  
Fenrir nodded... The other people in the room found this to be a bad omen. Fenrir turned to them... his mouth was open but he said nothing. The grimace on his face changed from confused to scared, from scared to serious, from serious to angry and then to some sort of wicked confidence... he circled Loki like a cat stalking her prey.  
  
"I will not continue this in front of mother..."  
"This is madness... I will not fight you... this has gone far enough!” Loki was still wounded and could not react as fast as his son could, so he depended on the procrastination of this situation. But Fenrir was without any patience whatsoever.  
"Who are you to command me and tell me what is wrong or right?! Is it madness? Possibly..."  
  
Loki tried another binding spell, sending strong green light towards Fen’s limbs, but he vanished into thin air before the lights even reached him... just like Hel had feared he would one day.  
The sound of his voice made them shiver: "Meet me at the bridge.”

 


	15. The end of the rainbow (bridge)...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok...there is one more chapter after this one,if some1 doesn't come up with some cool idea...i have hopped for more comments,but i am grateful,at least for the views.

Loki wished to die then and there. Hel was pulling his arms and screaming, begging him not to go to the rainbow bridge. She could feel the presence of death itself. One of them would surely die today. Loki or Fenrir... she had only them. No loss could she bear anymore. Loki felt it as well... he was meant to fail. The very existence of Loki Odinson was tragic from the beginning. He was a runt, an illegitimate child of Odin, the Allfather... he knew no happiness or luck. Everything had been in favor of Thor... Loki was to be cast in the shadows and shadows were cast upon him. In fact their importance was only too great - they broke him and put him back together again, so that they could try to destroy him once more. The shadows gave nothing to him; they only took. They had claimed his sons, his daughter... and now his youngest child. Loki was cursed... if he was to die to save at least one of his beloved children from them, then he would gladly sacrifice himself.  
  
He finally took Hel’s hands in his own and looked her in the eyes: "Hel... this may be the last time that we speak..."  
"But..." She was prepared to protest, although she knew very well that nothing would divert her father from his decision, no matter how final it was. He had already chosen his fate.  
"No ‘buts’.... let me finish..." The only sparkle left in him was the sparkle of hope; for both her and Fenrir. He had to stay strong and show none of his weaknesses to the young woman, for Hel was on the verge...  
"If… if something happens to me, promise me to look after Fenrir and see that no harm comes to him. Promise me this!"  
"But, nothing will happen! If you do not go... do not confront him... you can change your destiny... do not leave me!”  
  
And there it was... only more self guilt and hate, but not Hel’s. This time it was Loki’s. He now saw through all of Hel’s layers... he read her all the way down to the very core of her unfortunate being. Hel would never change - she depended on him, she needed him more than should have been necessary; more than was natural...  
  
He was a wall that would never let her pass. If he had any doubts of confronting his ill son, he understood now that that was the right path. The only path to follow... The Norns were right... his own safety would only be an obstacle for his loved ones. Hel was walking in the past... she knew no present and could not imagine the future. Fenrir was also called by the darkness. The well-being of them meant more to him than immortality itself. Immortality was just a chronological state; it was relative, unimportant. He only had his family and for them he would take the risk.  
He placed a gentle kiss upon her cold cheek and vanished without a word....  
_________________________________________________________  
  
Fenrir was now in a state of pure madness... walking in large circles, his eyes slightly shifting. He was not interested in the numerous colors of this mesmerizing architectural art, nor did he find any interest in the space that surrounded him... no... he was only listening to that tiny voice...  
  
Maybe it was his own - the voice of his true reasoning, or...  
  
He refused to confess to himself that he was losing his mind. He was not! His actions were the ones of a true Lycan. He was not ashamed to admit who he was and that was the main difference between him and Hel. She let others command her, decide instead of her, allowed them to humiliate her. But it was now his turn to help her and protect her. He would prove her that there is a sun... somewhere... behind the thick curtains of sorrow.  
.........................................................................................................................................................  
  
Loki looked around - Heimdall wasn't here... he probably went to inform Odin of the present and future events that would play themselves out here (or at least he hopped... Fenrir could easily win and kill him.) Loki was a fair distance from Fenrir; the young man was armed and obviously aiming for an "honorable sword fight" that he was so fond of.

  
"I thought that you would not come!" He grinned. Again, Loki noticed those sharp teeth of his...  
The sorcerer lightly joked: "You know your mother... she likes the sound of her own voice."  
"Oh, I know her alright... and one day she will thank me for freeing her from scum such as you!”  
"We have been over this - I have not harmed her!"  
"Enough - the very fact that I am here proves otherwise..."  
  
Loki raised his hands to show that he was unarmed: "I refuse to fight with my son... you may strike if you want, but I will not indulge you with this..."  
  
Fenrir said nothing... he swung his word and it passed through Loki’s body... an illusion!  
  
"Very funny! You coward... where are you?!"  
"I am here!" Loki lowered his invisibility and pushed Fenrir to the ground. He twisted his arm, also trying to place a calming spell upon him. Fenrir could feel it and took the opportunity to bite Loki. His teeth pierced right to the bones. Loki screamed and let go of him. Fenrir was once more on his feet and he turned the sword vertically, aiming for Loki’s heart. Luckily, the raven haired man kicked him in the stomach the last moment.  
  
Fenrir took few large steps back unintentionally... now Loki was using his green light to bind him in the chains again... he made the movement with his hand, forming chains and tossed them towards Fenrir.  
  
Fenrir was known for his speed... but that was also his downfall. His mind was only focused on attacking, so he lost his concentration and balance...  
  
He didn't realize that by then he was standing at the edge of the bridge... and this one step was too much... he fell...  
  
Loki’s eyes widened with horror... "Nooo!" He ran as fast as he could to the very place.  
Fenrir was barely holding... his hand was slipping...  
Loki grabbed it: "Come on - I’ll help you get up, but you must help me too. Give me your other hand... quickly!"  
  
Fear... there was a stark and unfamiliar look of fear in the boy’s eyes. The reality struck him. There was no more bravery and no more internal whispering... he was going to die. He started shaking and that was his last and biggest mistake.   
  
He slipped...  
  
   
  
And the abyss swallowed him...

 


	16. question...

i deeply apologize to you guys...this isn't a chapter-not much time to make another....also i need your help-please if u could write any comment or suggestion under the 15th chapter or some previous one for what to do next...i ll take as much ideas and think abut them...this non-chapter will probably be deleted so,please don't comment here.

also please read stories of dear beta Palefire73 and new cool helper animefreak141...  
i was glad to at least repay in a small way here :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDKKntqVoPs and here:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnFcvkNhdAo&spfreload=10 this videos are not shameless promotion but they will,hopefully get you interested in their stuff.  
i love you all...dont matter if u like the stuff or not...again i appreciate everyone's opinion...


	17. The end...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...well NO_it is not the end..coz again...i wanna see what u think- this mostly was the first end,also hel committing suicide...but i ll mix up everything you say n we ll see...

  
How long was Loki staring into that blue and silver vertigo? Into all those stars disappearing into nothingness...  
  
How long was he lost... trailing his gaze across them as the endless pit stole their glow? He never noticed the two suns appearing - one on the west and other on the south... he played that ...that scene in his tortured mind over and over again and in every one he would save his son. He would pull him up and hold him in his arms, never letting him go. The boy would cry and - and beg for forgiveness and Loki would forgive him. Hel would join them and all would be well... The small family would return to their home....  
  
But why, then, was he standing here… alone?  
  
So exposed in his shame and uselessness. He was at the mercy of the will of the Norns... He could almost hear them... he would not see Valhalla, and neither would Fenrir... there was no mercy for Loki.  
  
The cold spring wind caressed his face and played with his hair and that brought him back into reality... Oh, how he wished it was otherwise.  
__________________________________________________  
  
Hel saw the fight from the opposite side of the bridge. She had no power to teleport herself.... she could move faster when one with the shadows, but the suns forbade her.  
  
Someone had fallen! She screamed and ran as fast as she could, her white gown flowing on the mocking wind...  
  
"Death itself is coming to collect me..." Loki thought to himself... Even though he could see her perfectly... so pale, bathed in the sunlight... he couldn’t even recognize her as his own daughter.  
  
"The time has come for the undeserving... and the undeserving will gladly go..."  
  
\-----------------------------------------  
  
The black figure in front of her sank to his knees... Who was he? Who had fallen?  
  
Her heart told her to call down... at least for her son… Fenrir was not dead... yet... his energy was neither in Valhalla nor in Nifelheim. It was lost between the worlds... but she could not trace him... this man was Loki. As she was getting closer - she could feel through their bond what he was now attempting to do...  
"No!" She was still too far away to stop him…  
  
His wounds had healed, but his heart never would. It hurt so much… the pain was unbearable...   
  
There was no end to this suffering... He was already dead... he had been dead from the time he had made love with Hel... maybe, indeed, it was his doing and not hers... maybe he really was a monster. He squeezed his heart... he growled trying to rip it out... he needed to put an end to this ache.  
  
There was only one way to stop this. He looked around. There it laid – Fenrir’s sword... what a perfect revenge for all those who were ruined by his own hands...  
  
His wife, his two small boys - who were killed in front of him... he was a poison for Hel and the enemy for his youngest, Fenrir.  
  
Fenrir, who had so much to live for... he had all those years in front of him and Loki had stolen them away. His sentence was waiting... and he could only take it if it came by his own hands.  
  
"This is for you, my son... I have failed you... now you are dead because of me... I have destroyed everything I ever loved... I deserve far worse than this, but I am too weak to stand myself anymore. Please, forgive me."  
  
He noticed Hel approaching... she screamed something... the wind whispered into her ear: "One more soul for the kingdom of Nifelheim... for its eternal fire ..."  
  
The next moment, she felt it - she felt something piercing through her body... the bond... that means that...  
  
Her gaze went back to Loki.   
The sword!   
  
She watched on in despair as he stabbed himself in the stomach....

 

  


	18. Love,sword and crow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok...darling ones...luv you all...i still struggle about this...i don't want it to end...your words?also animefreak141,flattered me as she decided to make this story into kinda differently...http://archiveofourown.org/works/3746203/chapters/8310676.

  
Crystal tears dropped on Loki’s face… and then they were slowly wiped with gentle and delicate movements. She traced them with her thin fingers, caressing his sunken cheeks and cold lips. Despite all that had come to pass and all that he had been through, he still looked so beautiful.  
This was the first time that he had not rejected her feelings... He lay there so peacefully, his emerald eyes closed as if he was sleeping. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed as if the dream was not the most pleasant one, but... ‘all dreams must come to an end’ she thought. And the multiple meanings of that thought made her only cry more. Her tears were sharp and she almost felt as if they were bruising her soft skin. There below in the abyss, there - somewhere beyond the borders of all that is known, beyond the nine realms - there was their poor son. Although it was spring, the air had the scent of autumn about it. Hel nodded to herself.  
  
She took the ring her father gave her so many centuries ago from her finger. She had never taken it off before, but now... it did not matter...  
  
"I pray... I pray that this token of love... from my mother to my father and from him to me... will find a way to you, my darling Fenrir... I hope you are alright and I hope... I hope that you will find happiness. I hope that you are free of our curse... the curse that destroyed us, my son. I am sending you all my love... fare well..."  
  
She whispered all this and threw the small ruby ring into the never-ending chasm...  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
She lay next to Loki, placing her arm around him. Her gaze was frozen on his face... she wanted to remember him like this...  
"Could you forgive me...? Could you forgive me for loving you...?" Why did she hope that he would answer? That this was simply one of her nightmares?   
  
Where was he? Loki’s soul was still here somewhere... waiting for something... She turned and saw him. He was standing few meters from her smiling. His energy told her that he forgave her and wished her to continue without him or Fenrir, and to find her own path.  
  
She watched as his soul formed itself into a million little stars and went towards the heavens... Loki’s life had not been in vain. He had known nothing but sorrow, yet he’d had a good heart and sacrificed himself for his daughter and son. The Norns were aware that he wanted to save both her and Fenrir, but alas... the cruel fate gave Loki a sad ending.  
.....................................................................................................................  
  
Hel would not be able to follow him. The gates of Valhalla were closed for her. She would not return to Nifelheim either; she was a ruler there and she would never be one of those beneath her. Her soul would meet a far, far worse fate... and so be it.... Fenrir’s punishment would then touch them both. Fenrir indeed loved this silver sword. Was it a coincidence that there was a small crow carved upon it? The crow - a symbol of the house of Loki and the house of Hel... the symbol of their family...   
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The guards, Heimdall and Odin arrived an hour later to find that the only people on the bridge besides them were an embracing couple - lying in blood...

 

 

 

                                    

 

 


	19. Another brother...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do listen to dear readers and still don't know where this is goin.so u can stop at the previous chapter coz this is mostly to become a ragnarok thing now.well probably,we ll see-plus some weird ideas .

  
Fenrir found himself floating in between worlds. He was in some sort of space and around him were multiple portals towards other realms... or so he concluded. None of them appeared familiar.  
  
He was now staring up... high up at the hole through which he fell... His body was numb and he could not move, but his senses warned him about the dangers he could encounter here. The list went on and on; numerous strange species, viruses, floating objects, lack of oxygen... He wanted to yell, he sought some kind of help... but his intuition warned him it could be too risky. He was always the one to smile in the face of danger, to push further than the others and to try to prove himself as equal, or even worthy of more - ha!  
  
And where had that brought him? Here - into this ungodly place!  
  
"A sign! I need a sign!" He cried out. His own logic did him no good and for a few more moments nothing really happened. His body was still in the great vacuum, surrounded by stars and the scenery he would, in any other case, have found to be majestic and breathtaking. However, returning to a more natural environment was the most important thing now. He spotted something... something was falling through the very same portal he had! What was it? A small star? No... it looked like - a ring! He used a great amount of effort to stretch out his hand and grab it. Although he almost missed it, he succeeded in grabbing the golden and ruby jewel. He stared in disbelief. Of all the things to fall into his possession, it was his mothers ring! Was this the sign he so desperately needed? It could be nothing else...   
  
He placed it on his own finger, where it fitted perfectly. It was an antique – beautifully made and the great central ruby was shaped like a tear. He kissed it and closed his hands over his heart: "Oh Mother. How this reminds me of better times. How I wish I could once more be with my family..."  
  
Suddenly the ring glowed and a red light transported Fenrir into one of the portals surrounding him...  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Urghhh!" It was difficult to stand up when everything ached - his back in particular... He was completely disorientated; the unexpected change of location had made his stomach turn and he felt dizzy.   
  
The ground under him was most unpleasant. It was wet sand... he was on some sort of a beach. There was a very large muddy lake and under the strong red and yellow colors of the sunset, it looked as it was on fire. There were many trees - all bare-branched - and the soil was frighteningly barren. It was mostly sand and the further one went from the lake it became overrun with more and more grey rocks... This wasteland surely could not be Nifelheim?! Nifelheim had no sun and it could not be Svartalheim, for Svartalheim had no lakes. Maybe he had travelled to another time line as well as a different place. This was very close in appearance to the prehistoric era of Midgard... But then again, the weather was cold and not as hot as it should be for that time. The climate was almost refreshing, so it truly was strange that hardly anything grew here. There were no signs of any animals or creatures of any kind, either. It took him some time to decide what to do and he followed the lake for few miles, only to discover that there was very little diversity in the signs of life there.  
  
He had to rest. His legs were protesting against any more exploration... he leaned onto one of the large trees and gathered few branches to make a fire. It should be night already, but the dying sun didn't fade from the horizon. Maybe the sunset was a constant state in this world? It would explain why the flora and fauna were only here in faint traces, even in the best case. His spell worked and a small flame danced across the pile of branches and the moisture of the ground didn't bother it. He rubbed his head and closed eyes. Why was he here? How did it happen? All he wanted was to be with his family...

  
The ring glowed and... He examined it then... very, very closely, He strained his emerald eyes -there was something in the stone... very tiny, almost invisible to the naked eye... there was a black core.  
  
He gasped as the magic of it weakly touched his aura - there was an infinity stone inside the ruby! He heard Otr telling him stories that Hel kept such a stone somewhere in the darkest halls of Nifelheim, but no one had ever seen it. So it was true... she had hidden it inside the ring!! How was this possible and where did the infinity stone came from...? What was its purpose...?  
He was puzzled, yet equally thrilled… so many questions, but this could be his way to salvation.  
  
Maybe it grants wishes... but he was not where he wanted to be! He tried to recollect if he had ever heard or read something about a realm with a fiery sky and chilly weather since his memory had no reliable information. It would cost him nothing to try again... Every moment here could mean something dreadful may happen.  
  
"I wish to see my family – now!” He spoke loudly, feeling his wish vibrating and spreading into the air. He looked around... still... everything was quiet... He gasped, wanting to curse it all, but the ground started to move... and the water’s surface began to bubble...  
  
This was no earthquake... Fenrir quickly hid behind the rock. He could only watch the shadow of what came from the water - and the shadow was growing and growing and growing... He placed his hands and over his mouth and stopped breathing. Whatever it was - it was enormous!  
  
He could hear that being sniffing the air.... and then it suddenly spoke... The voice was like the sound of a powerful waterfall - it would be difficult to describe it in any other way. Hissing... deep... unsteady. Yet the tone was firm: "I can smell you, little one! Come out... so I can see you as wellllllll...."  
  
Every word was stretched and it would difficult for a non-shifter to hear it, but Fenrir was a shifter and since his voice was also sometimes "flexible", he could understand all it... He was frozen and it was almost impossible for him to move or think properly. He may be mad, but not that much! Running was not an option, nor fighting - not until he had a clear idea what or who was his opponent.

  
Then something was above his head - a giant snake stretching his incredibly long neck in a search for his – prey! Although the young man made no sound, that monstrous head turned and its large eyes widened with pleasure.  
  
Its laughter made the ground shake: "Oh, so there you are..."  
  
All Fen could do was scream "No!" and shut his eyes.  
  
The serpent stopped a few inches in front of his small curled up body.... both of this pale green eyes were larger than Fenrir himself....  
  
The sniffing again....  
  
"Fenrir wake up... wake up... this is a dream... just a dream... You are safe at home... in a bed... you never went to Asgard... Otr never went to Valhalla... You are a small boy and all this is a passing dream. Nothing more than a dream..." he was uncontrollably shaking.  
"Look at me!" The serpent demanded and Fenrir fearfully obliged.  
"You don't know who I am, do you... hmm?"  
"No... noo... but you are not real! Th-this is just a dream!"  
More loud laughter... "Oh, no it is not... this is very much reality little one..."  
"Are you urgh... going to eat me...?"  
  
The serpent looked shocked: "And why would I eat you?”  
  
It was strange but Fenrir for some reason had an urge to fight (verbally, at least) with this monster.  
"Do you mock me, beast?!” The large tongue twisted around his body and then retreated.  
"Just as I thought..."  
"Ughr...!” The saliva was disgusting, but there was no trace of poison or any other damage.  
  
"You are Fenrir, the son of Hel Angrbodadottir and... Loki Odinson, are you not?"  
  
Fenrir had to find the words... How did this... how did he know? No words were there whatsoever... his mouth just hung half open...  
The snake made a most sarcastic bowing gesture.  
  
"I am Jormungandr... your brother".

 

   


	20. Treason and truth...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i hope this explains it...sorry for mistakes they will be edited in time...hopefully...and please comment...like-pretty please..

        

   
The warm blood that ran through the young swordsman’s body never gave him any rest - his actions precluded any rational decisions. Now he could only scream. He was an easy meal... but if he was going to die, he would at least show no fear... only a lack of patience.  
  
"WHAT!? You jest, serpent… and I do not find it humorous at all! If your custom is to toy with your victims, forgive me, but I will end this tradition now!" He swiftly jumped over the rock and ran towards the fire, quickly grabbing a few branches... it was futile, but he would use any possible weapon....  
  
"Come on, now... attack me!" Sadly, all that young Fenrir knew was lies, fighting and the law of the fittest. There was no room for a fair fight or real honor. He had always depended on himself. Cunning Jormungandr had read all this in him... Fenrir wore his heart upon his sleeve and all his supposed mystery was betrayed in every one of his movements and unwise decisions. The serpent sighed... not from boredom... in fact the very presence of the young Lycan amused him and made him feel warmth in his heart... but the reason he did it was so he would not seem as terrifying to the young Fenrir.  
  
"Oh, you do not believe me... you can not see the resemblance?" He smiled. Fenrir was smiling as well, but had a fierce look in his eyes; he was prepared for anything. The serpent could attack from any direction – even behind him - that tail was large as a hill...  
  
"Hahahaha - and how could I not? We are so similar you and I. A poisonous beast and..."  
"...and a blood- thirsty wolf..." Jormungandr lowered his head. "You, little one, are not a pure blooded Aesir... and as you can see, neither am I. But it does seems that I owe you an explanation, yes...?" He completely surrounded Fenrir and nodded towards the fire again: "I would suggest that you sit... this may take a while…"  
  
"And if I refuse?" Fenrir raised his chin defiantly towards the giant serpent who claimed to be his kin.  
"You are still weak from your trip.” Replied Jormungandr, “It would not harm you to recover some of your strength... and in the meantime learn something about your history."  
"Very well! But I will know if you lie!" Fenrir was angry, but finally sat back where he had been sitting before - under that old lifeless tree. Now, when Jor got his full attention, he turned round... as if he was thinking what to say...  
  
"Well?!"  
  
"You need to learn your manners little brother... I was merely trying to find the right way to give you a proper explanation, but since I have forgotten about your nature, I’ll get straight to the point..." Fenrir actually looked offended, and Jor took a more comfortable position.  
  
"A long, long time ago... when Odin was a small boy... his father, king Bor, did what his own father had done for him and his father’s father for his son... he took the boy to the most powerful seer. She was blind, but her eyes saw beyond the borders of the present time..."  
"You mean far into the future?"  
"Yes..." Jor was pleased that Fenrir had relaxed a bit, but kept this to himself.  
"What the seer predicted was this: Odin would be a mighty ruler of all the nine realms... he would have many powerful sons of which one would carry his name through the countless battles. Odin would be proud of him - you know him as the prince, Thor. He would make mistakes as well... drunken in his own glory, the king would wander off from the righteous ways and would beget another son... an illegitimate bastard with the Jotuun princess...."  
  
Fenrir said nothing. Jor was also quiet for a few moments.  
"This son could not sit upon the throne of Asgard, but if Odin decided not to recognize him as his own, the war with Jotunheim would mean the beginning of the downfall of the once golden realm. You see, Jotunheim had their own power, and placing any shame upon their princess and leaving her with a bastard son would only have angered the giants, sooo..." The serpent now placed himself closer to Fenrir, and oddly it felt nice. Fenrir sensed no danger and he felt closeness to Jormungandr... the closeness of his own kin.

  
"Loki was pronounced a prince... the last in line for the Asgardian throne.”  
"I know all of this... I still don't see how that makes us siblings."  
"Let me finish... the seer also warned the young Odin that the sons of Loki would bring Ragnarok and the end of the era of gods. That is the reason why he ordered Vali and Narvi killed."   
Fenrir jumped to his feet. "No! They were killed by the Jotuuns, who never accepted Loki as their possible prince..."  
"Liesssss!" Jor was now in Fen’s face. It was ironic how he could so easily swallow him.  
"Listen carefully... he lied to his wife, Queen Frigga, and all of his sons about that... so he could keep his name and conscience clean. That's why and when the war in Jotunheim started and all those endless battles - that was also a great excuse... it suited him and his ambitions to get the Casket Of Ancient Winters from the frost giants..."  
  
Fenrir’s eyes widened... "I can’t believe that…"  
  
"You have not heard anything yet. Sit!"   
  
He didn't sit; he almost fell, but regained his posture.  
  
"With our father’s family out of the picture, Odin was fearless... until one day he saw Loki and Hel playing in the gardens. He could feel the bond... and recalled what that blind witch said - the true love of the Jotuun’s bastard will bring twin sons into this world. They will be his twilight. Until that moment, Odin had never expected Loki to impregnate his own daughter, but since Loki was the God of Lies and one could not trust him, he decided to separate them. All those centuries and Loki lied, but only to himself. He loved Hel... their bond was strong. A bond of true love. It was their destiny - two unfortunate souls in the wrong bodies. That was their only crime..."  
  
Fenrir’s eyes were glassy. "So he didn't...?!" Jor just shook his head, "No, he didn't. Hel was stubborn and not so restricted with ethics and rules as Loki, who was raised in the court among people. Her need for love was above that... She took the initiative. And tricked him - her own father. In a mis-placed sense of love."  
The young man hid his face behind his hands. "What have I done?!"  
  
The serpent looked at him with understanding and sadness; "I know what you did, but it was all a part of a much bigger plan…"  
"What plan? Do you mean the Norns?"  
  
"Yes. And Odin’s... for you see, after he heard that Hel was to give a birth to a child, he came to assist the birth. In his own way. Since her body was not made for such a torment, she fell unconscious and he took the opportunity. He stole one of the twins from his mother, while he left the other. Then he placed a spell so the younger child looked as an Aesir most of the time, while the other was brought here to survive or to die..."  
  
"I have never heard of you... Why did she not tell me, or Otr or...?"  
"Our darling grandfather placed a spell upon them all. No one was to remember the serpent child. Hel never knew, so neither did Loki. And, since the twins were never to meet, there was less danger for the mighty Odin."   
  
Fenrir stared out at the lake and Jor joined him.

 

"But why didn't he kill us? He must have known that… that we would meet one day?"  
  
"Shshhhh....when he heard that you are not as weak as he thought he "invited" you to the royal academy... his goal was to see if you could be a possible threat. When he noticed that you are beyond any expectations he let you find out the truth about your heritage... He hoped that you and Loki would kill each other. The one remaining would be killed as well. Again, his own hand would be clean."  
  
Fen’s knees betrayed him... his boots and clothes were now full of cold sand. His tears dried up ages ago ... he had cried so much, but all this cruelty and evil just made him nauseous now...  
  
"There... there... I know how you feeeeeellll" hissed the giant serpent above him.  
  
"No... you do not! How could you? I killed my own father... and he was innocent of the crimes I accused him of! I have killed..." Finally...the tears came...  
  
Jor watched as the young Lycan vented all the pain and then waited patiently for Fen to clean his face in the lake.  
  
"We must avenge them!” He said, “Both mother and father. Odin must be destroyed!"  
  
"I confess I wish him dead... I hate him so much!" Fenrir was slamming his fist onto the sand and he even placed his hands above the flame of the fire - just so he could feel the pain. He needed that test of his will and proof of his grief. Jor spat and the fire was extinguished.  
  
"Do not do that!” He admonished his sibling. “I need you to be as healthy as you can be for what is in front of us..."  
  
"And how will we leave this wasteland... and ... firstly, how do you know all of this? I don't see you really leaving this place."  
  
"All the answers are in but one of the infinity stones. Yours grants wishes, but it needs to be very specific about what one desires. Also, how do I know? Well, there is another one at the bottom of the lake. Its magic shows different locations and events in different times. I have seen all... all you went through. It taught me everything else I needed to know. I learned to speak. Although I was alone - I was not hugged by a mother like you were - I never played with our father, like you. I was raised by a damned stone!"  
  
Fenrir wiped his tears. Jor really looked angered and he felt sorry for this intelligent, yet miserable creature. "Forgive me. I was unaware. You are right... maybe I was… spoiled… Haha!"  
  
Jormungandr reflected his own mirth: "Haha!"  
  
They both laughed - for a brief time... but it was their first real connection as brothers. It was an unfamiliar and a good feeling. They both looked into each others eyes - green met green – yes, they were a family.  
  
Then Jor continued. "Unfortunately, when the two stones combined - yours and mine... although we can travel to Asgard, we can not win... There is only one stone left... the one which could give us enough power to make Odin fall to his knees. And only one person knows where that stone is." The great serpent paused/  
  
"Who?" 

"Loki..."

 


	21. Limbo, Valhalla and Hel...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry,you guys..i am not really happy with this...i had a baaaaaaaaad day...

     
These were not the regular cells for the royals, but the deepest dungeons.... wet, filthy, claustrophobic, with no lights; very few had windows and even these were placed too high, so no prisoner could attempt an escape. Hel would certainly not. While lying in the shadows, she was gathering some energy and her mind flashed a retrospective of events which had occurred only a few hours ago. After she tried to kill herself and the darkness welcomed her once more, that blissful and comforting feeling was replaced by a strong light. Her eyes hurt and it took some time until they could observe her new location; this was not a healing room... this was something different...  
  
She was bound to the pale marble table... much like a sacrifice to the gods... many primitive tribes sacrificed men and women in the same manner. She tried to move, but Odin’s spell was far beyond her comprehension and ability to break. One of the guards turned to someone, but since her eyes burned it was difficult to say who that person was until he spoke:  
  
"So she has awakened? Good. You may call in the healers.”  
It was none other than Odin.  
"So, my rebellious granddaughter, how does it feel to be the one responsible for the death of your son and your father?” His presence unnerved her; his gloating would lead to something sadistic surely, but all she wanted to do right now was poke his eye out! He was not to be underestimated and the thought that he was the cause of all her misery never left her mind or heart.  
  
"What do you want? This is a torturing chamber, isn't it?"  
Odin smiled, but as quickly as his smile appeared, it disappeared. "How perceptive of you... you are here to receive the punishment for your crimes..."  
"What crimes?!" she asked in a fearful voice.  
"You seduced your father by using black magic, and with him conceived a monstrous son who attacked the prince of Asgard and killed him. In an act of pure madness, you pushed Fenrir into the abyss. When your mind cleared and you realized what you had done, you tried to find your salvation in death..."  
  
"You lie! You know very well that is not the truth!"   
  
Odin only continued as if he had not heard her; in fact, he looked at her as if she was something to be squashed.  
"....as I was saying: how can the Queen of the Dead die, Hel? Your body healed itself as soon as we brought you here. The miscalculations in your plan to take over the throne by sharing a bed with Loki have, unfortunately, led me to do what is about to happen to you. I do not do it gladly; you are my son’s daughter, but the people of Asgard know about your transgressions. They call you the black witch! They also know that you killed Fandral when he threatened to inform us. The council has still not yet come to its final verdict, but I was permitted to grant a wish from Loki’s bride-to-be, Lady Valera. To take the very tool that makes you what you are...."  
  
Hel watched in horror as the healer approached the table upon which she lay with a large saw and a few sharp instruments.  
  
"..your arm..."  
  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, here she was, trying to regenerate, soaking up the darkness. Yet it helped little. She could not look at what they had done, she just could not. They had taken her arm! They had sentenced her to who-knows-what. What did she have now? ...Or who? No one, that was the answer. She curled herself up and lay like that against the stones. Dreams would not come... or sleep for that matter. She could hear the sounds of the guards passing by or some prisoners begging for mercy while being tormented. She started humming her favorite little song... not to improve her mood, but more for the nostalgia...  
  
"I always knew you sang marvellously..." Hel looked up to see a blond transparent man, who smiled softly.  
"Fandral?"  
"Yes, it is I... in fact..." - He sat next to her - "I never had a chance to leave.”  
She could barely speak; her throat hurt from so much screaming few hours ago.  
"If you came to gloat, you have every right. I was punished properly for what I did to you... maybe more, even.”  
  
He placed his hand along her cheek, but it went thorough - "I have not came here to gloat. I am sorry Hel. You did not deserve this. Nor did Loki... or Fen."  
Her eyes begged: "Have you seen them? Loki has... left... but, my son..?”  
Fandral was now serious. "I don't know where the young lad is, but he is not here, if that is any comfort for you. And Loki... I saw everything that occurred on the bridge. I made a terrible mistake... and this" - he made a gesture of presentation - "is the price to pay.”  
"Why have you come, then"?  
"Am I such a bad company?”   
Hel smiled, "No, in fact - I could use good company right now!"  
"Thank you. It would be an honor to wait until tomorrow with such a lovely lady."  
"Tomorrow - what is happening tomorrow, Fandral?"  
  
"Oh, you were not informed then? Well...” Fandral took hold of her hand to comfort her, “… it is Loki’s funeral, and after that, the reading of your sentence. They say you will be burned as the witch they say you are. They “need”, I quote, “to destroy your body until it is nothing but ashes..."   
  
Hel started to cry and laugh at the same time... one guard peeked through the small holes in the door to see what was going on. Since he could not see Fandral, he concluded that Hel had gone mad.  
  
"Why have the saved me, when they are to execute me?! That is... such a comedy..."  
"Well, if I may say so... Odin had hoped you would die, but when he saw you were recovering, he knew he had to please the grieving subjects... My death, Loki’s, Fenrir’s... they blame you for everything."  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
   
  
Valhalla... Valhalla, as many said, was the most blissful and beautiful place one could imagine. It was made of pure light... Only the ones of pure heart had permission to enter here, and many who dared to believe they could were rejected... and were still in between worlds, or worse. Valhalla did not accept killers, no matter how their own people glorified them. Valhalla was peace, not war. Valhalla was love, not hate and Valhalla was give, not take. And Loki gave and gave and gave... and finally he was given all this: peace, love... he walked amongst clouds that were forming themselves into ones’ wishes... if he wanted a gold palace of his own… there it was in a second... if he wished to visit other places, again he was there in the blink of an eye. The moment he stepped his foot here – and his ‘foot’ was a non-existent form, for Loki was light himself - he had lost the memory of who he really was and why he had ended up here. It seemed like he had been here forever; this is where he was made to be. Here, everything was alright, everything was the purest truth... no lies... no deceits. There were no words like "no"... all was … "yes".

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
"Sing to me, Hel." Fandral was in the opposite corner of the small cell, glowing weakly in the dark. His energy was fading. Hel knew what that meant - he would soon leave this realm and go... she knew not where. Most of her powers had lain within her left arm... which was no more.  
"Hmm?"  
"A song... I ask of you, my darling... I want to hear your angelic voice... before I go to the dark lands myself."  
"I do not think you will."  
"Oh, we both know I will. You, on the other hand, are leaving too." he approached her slowly, looking at her.  
"Yes, I... I can feel that." There was a moment of silence. Their true fates were still within the mist and they were sad and scared. Hel turned to what she always did in such a state to divert herself from her fears: She sang...  
  
"As you wish... I think I owe you..." They both smiled and Hel’s musical voice filled the cell with a soft lament.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
   
  
The sun was born in Valhalla at the beginning of the day and it would die in Nifelheim at its end, surrendering to the first stage of the moon. The same thing awaited Hel.  
  
The dawn... it was freezing... innocent, yet heavy around the heart...  
  
She managed to fall asleep... at least for a short while... there was no Fandral to bring her comfort...  
"Oh, I hope he has gone to a better place..."  
She tried to stand up, but she had forgotten about her arm and lost her balance. The fall was not horrible, but it was very unpleasant and it was a shock. She was in rags; they were bloody and dirty. How does one prepare oneself for being burned alive..? When the flames swallow your skin, flesh, and bones, not only inch by inch - but the whole of you... She took a very deep breath - with her body regenerating... the dying would last so much longer. She sat on her knees and started praying... her words were meant for all the gods and saints, for her family and for all those who she had wronged. She asked her souls back in Nifelheim for forgiveness as well... some had received worse punishments than they should have.  
Because those had been her decisions... all that had been her decision now damned her.  
  
   
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
   
  
Half an hour later there were footsteps... someone was approaching Hel’s cell very fast... Was it time already? Surely Loki’s funeral was to be at mid-day. The doors unlocked to admit someone and Hel looked over in surprise…  
  
"Frigga?"

 

 


	22. Women behind Men...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this should be longer...but no time...sorry...

       

 

   
Loki was creating... he could create everything he wanted... a floating castle made blue see-through crystals above a purple lake and in perfect combination with the sunset in the distance. Oh, the pattern of colors it produced... orange, pink, yellow and red playing across the lake’s surface looked magnificent, breathtaking... and when the lights hit the crystals it was an explosion of rainbows.  
It reminded him of something... hmmm... he focused on that but concluded that the continuation of what he was doing would give him the right answers. He was not concerned really. There were no words or terms or anything "in practice” here that would even be remotely worrying. The magic here, which he wielded now, was coming from a source that was simply of pure existence. He was so captivated in this making of his own little world that he would constantly forget why his thoughts were escaping to somewhere else. Then he felt he should manifest a waterfall - the wild, uncontrollable energy that the water produced was something he was always fascinated with.  
  
The one he made out of his own will was precisely as he imagined it; he marvelled at it… the water was clean, it even smelled of spring... it gave life to the, until then, non-existing flowers which started to bloom around it. They were from all the Nine Realms and some were even from the realm of dreams... Soon his view was filled with endless meadows, fields, forests, mountains.... and some of the creatures that inhabited them were extinct on their own planes.  
  
Then he had an inspiration - he lifted the waterfall’s end, so it was straight all the way to its source, but still full of life and dynamic. The colors that spread from the castle had fallen on the water’s surface. Loki made it still, frozen in time... He alighted on it and started walking... this, indeed, was reminding him of something. Like he was walking on some kind of rainbow road... or was it a path...? The answer was there, on the tip of his tongue, yet still so elusive.  
  
He needed to know... why was this so familiar to him? Just then, the white, sun bathed clouds shifted into humanoid characters... When the formation was complete, a scene started - a battle between a young man and Loki himself.  
  
At one point, the boy lifted the sword over Loki’s exhausted body, but Loki punched him and the boy fell over the edge of the rainbow road... The events were appearing rather quickly and he stared as they played out before him, one by one:  
  
Loki stabbing himself... the arrival of young lady with sad features... she then wept over Loki and did the same thing as Loki had...  
  
Then the events started showing backwards... the Asgard palace... the dim face of the emotionless King, a bright smile upon the blond Prince he called brother... the Queen’s soft bronze hair, his own children... all of them...  
  
Someone approached him from behind... soft, almost unnoticeable footsteps... it was a small brown haired boy, and the God of Lies knew that his name was Narvi. He lowered himself so he could look into the boy’s warm eyes.  
"Hello there..."  
"Hello ...father!" The boy’s eyes smiled and outshined the sun itself.  
  
.............................................................................................................  
  
   
  
Hel stumbled on her chains. Frigga was the very last person she expected here. She could not have come unnoticed, unless she used her seidr.  
Her expression was unfortunately - or fortunately - unreadable:   
"I have seen and heard many foul things in my time Hel, but this... this makes them all seem irrelevant. The horrors that our family has gone through..."  
  
Hel hid her face, letting her hair fall over it. If Frigga was enraged by her deeds, or those that were mentioned in the court gossip circles, then she had achieved something not even the worst enemies of Asgard had; she made Frigga feel hate. It hurt her to die soon knowing that this woman, who she called grandmother - even if she was not -, despised her. But Frigga removed few strands of her nocturnally black hair, so that she could look the young woman straight in the eyes.  
  
“The absolute humiliation” Hel thought.

She cupped the girl’s face and asked in the kindest tone possible, "Can you… forgive me, Hel...?"  
  
Hel was momentarily shocked, blinking few times.  
"What..?" She whispered, "Why should I forgive you… aren't I the one...?"  
  
The queen shook her head, "Oh, my dear child... I knew all of this would happen, even before I met and married my husband..."  
"What do you mean... ‘All’?" Hel had to lean onto the wall, for her legs would surely betray her, but her eyes were ready to throw daggers. She was surely going to lose her temper... had this graceful woman actually stood by Odin during her trial, or was this something worse? Was Frigga being deceitful? Was there, behind that welcoming smile and melodious voice, one more liar? Oh, how glorious is the house of the All-Father! Hypocrites! Every one of them!  
  
The Queen was an empath and could sense what Hel was thinking.  
  
She crossed her hands and stepped as far from the girl as the cell allowed. She could not blame her, but she had to do this. She had to take this burden of her soul.  
"My mother’s sister... Freya, was a powerful seer... she was able to foretell exactly what would come to pass. I have inherited her gift, but never could match her. She was blind, yet she spoke with the Gods and they gave her an alternative sight. She said to me that I would marry the King of Asgard and... "  
  
As the Goddess of marriage, love and family spoke, Hel sank to the floor, trying to find the right position to sit which with one arm was quite difficult. She almost ended up on her back, quietly swearing for not getting used to her new (even more) ruined state. Frigga pretended not to notice this and continued with the tale. Hel did not appreciate looking so weak, so she placed a calming spell upon the girl before the story took a turn for the worse.  
  
The role of her other son and Odin’s obsession with power and fear of Ragnarok had awakened too many emotions at once... there were no words to describe how the pale girl felt. Although she felt a need shed her skin, to just escape her body and this horrible destiny of hers, she stayed calm and stared at the wall. She didn't notice that at first, for her thoughts were with her children...  
Then she realized that Frigga had probably done something to her. It was for the best, because Hel didn't know what she would do to her - to the woman she had loved and respected all these centuries... it was something to expect from that heartless husband of hers but, this hurt so much. Frigga, in Hel’s opinion, was the ultimate betrayer - she could have prevented everything and yet… she had done nothing.  
  
The queen looked everywhere except into her eyes, and when she finished this blasphemous history telling all that was left was suffocating silence.  
Hel stared murderously at her and Frigga couldn't take it any more. She already hated herself because she had allowed Odin to decide her children's fate. Yes, to her, all of them were her blood.  
"I know, I ask only too much, but could you forgive... if not now, then perhaps one day, Hel?"  
  
Hel’s voice was full of anger, but she controlled her tone. The guards coming would be the one thing she really did not need right now.  
"That is the reason why you came - to ask for forgiveness? To put your conscience to rest? Are you so selfish?! Could you not at least let me die without knowing all this?! One day, you say... one day...?! Do you mean hours? That would be more accurate!"  
  
"Hel... I..!"  
"NO! I had not one, but two sons... two sons... they are gone! I don't know if they are even alive anymore. Not to mention if they well! You were hidden behind that evil man, watching my lo... my father’s suicide.... and now here you are, to feast your eyes upon this pathetic being in front of you. Well enjoy, Queen Frigga, enjoy!"  
  
Frigga used her long blue sleeve to wipe the tears that were not showing yet and gathered her courage to say all that she had to. Yes - had to.  
"Your sons Hel... they are both alive and well!"  
  
As one could imagine, Hel’s expression had completely changed. If she had not still been under that spell that forbade her to get up...

  
"That is the true reason why I came here... to "put my conscience to rest" as you said. And by doing the right thing... by following the path the Norns wrote down for me in a time before the time itself.”  
"And, pray tell,” Spat Hel, “what path is that?!"  
"I am here to help you with getting your children back and to... to kill Odin."

 


	23. Fallen Angel...

  
The two women managed to pass the nineteen guards, five excessively large hallways, and the whole west wing of the palace and end up in the gardens. They found a resting spot behind a cluster of wide purple flowers of Alfheim... since these flowers, known as Gauntirs, absorbed sound; this place was made for the protection of thieves, or spies or... the Queen herself and the fallen princes. Frigga’s plans were still unknown to Hel and if the queen thought that she had her trust, then she was incredibly naïve. If this was a trap, it was not for her... Hel was already waiting for her doom... maybe Frigga was using her as some sort of bait - but for whom? Did Odin need more answers? Certainly not - that murderer had all the answers - for he was the all knowing, and if he didn't have them, he would make them up. They had about an hour before the two suns rode out upon their tracks.  
  
"What is this? What are we doing here? Is this is some sort of a game to you?!"  
  
Hel never spoke so fast and was cut off by the older woman’s silencing gesture. The goddess of family had so many things on her mind and so much sorrow in her heart. She had not had the time to tell her non-grand daughter what her aunt had told her - what she would have to decide... and that this decision would affect not only the future of Asgard, but all realms that bloomed upon the Yggdrasil tree. If even one of the realms fell, all the others would follow. And that would surely happen if Odin remained King.  
  
Yes, he was an honorable man once. Then something changed. He started thirsting for more power, more obedience. He marched into battles, causing wars and stopping them - not by luck, but by manipulating them the way he found fitting. He was ambitious and wise and by following the path the seer predicted he would go, he was unstoppable. But how much power can one man have? It would destroy both him and everything around him. And because he was the All-Father himself... his fall was everyone's fall.  
  
Thor was first in the line to the throne; the golden Prince was a good son, a good friend, and a good brother, but he would not be a good king. He would try to make Odin proud, but his actions would cause widespread ruin and the death of so many... and Frigga had been given a chance to change all that. The preservation of Yggdrasil was essential to all they held dear.  
  
Frigga could save so many lives if she was to cause the death of those she cared about. Hel was getting nervous and now was the right moment to pay attention to the girl. Frigga had not dared to tell her all this before; the Norns forbid that the guards would catch them, and use the force to get the truth out of the girl. All would be lost.  
  
"Your arm, Hel. We are here to get your arm back.” Hel’s eyes widened as she hoped for an explanation. She certainly had not imagined this would happen.  
"I will tell you all, but we must hurry now.”  
There was a small lane between the bushes which lead to the back doors, which was one the servants used. The doors were half open, probably for the guards, so there was no problem with entering.  
Frigga literally dragged the worn out Hel through the storage rooms, again into a hallway (a much smaller one) and stopped in front of the large wall covered with a tapestry depicting feasts and peasants celebrating and dancing.  
Frigga looked around, just to be sure that they were alone and moved the tapestry. A hidden door was behind it. They stepped through only to find themselves in darkness, so Frigga created a floating torch flame that showed them where they needed to go. It was actually a very narrow hallway; it was dusty and only one person at a time could walk in it. After a long, long walk they found themselves in a small tomb.  
  
Now the flame Frigga had conjured multiplied itself and when the room was light enough, Hel’s curiosity pushed her to grab the first thing in front of her. She liked the energy that the artefacts radiated... all of them, for this was not a tomb with bodies, but with something truly valuable. Here was where the strength of Asgard lay. Right here in this dark, forsaken, small room. An ideal place really; who would have guessed? It was, indeed safe.

 

  
"Don’t touch anything!" Frigga warned. Hel froze her movements immediately.  
  
"Odin would feel that something wasn't right, we must be extremely cautious. We came here for your arm, only. Nothing else must be disturbed.”  
"Why is my damned arm so relevant?"  
"Ah, here it is." Frigga carefully lifted the object in question, which was wrapped in a cloth.  
"Hel. Your arm can cause death, but in combination with the infinity stone of chaos, it can bring life.”  
"What. Are. You. Talking. About? None of this makes any sense. The stone of chaos is just a legend -no one has seen it."  
Frigga sighed, "That is because it has not been used before - its magic is too great; it can cause..."  
"Ragnarok?"-the girl was sarcastic.  
"I am afraid so..."  
Hel was making faces; maybe Frigga had lost her mind? But the Queen shook her head again and rushed to the entrance, "We need to get out of here!"  
Hel watched as the flames melted into one. "Where are we to go now?"  
"To the morgue."  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
   
  
Unlike the room in which they had been a few minutes ago, this one was mostly pretentious in both space and finery. Although some may have found – needlessly - to decorate the last remaining place for a body, it reminded Hel of Nifelheim. Since this was the palace mortuary mainly for the wealthy ones, there weren't many caskets. Only two - the closed one turned out to be empty - this was a place where Fandral had found his rest - physically, at least. The other casket was open. Hel could not but to run to it.  
  
She smiled sadly as she gazed at the person in it. She traced her thin fingers over his face and chest, and placed her head upon them. By the Norns how she yearned for him. He died only one day ago, but to her it seemed as if centuries had passed. Frigga watched them silently. The case when two souls are reborn again and again and in each life they try to stay with each other was known to her. She wanted each and everyone to find joy in a blissful marriage. She was the protector of the families and it was her obligation to assist in any way she could to those who deserved it.  
Where those two kindred spirits were allowed to do stay together, despite possible class differences, racial barriers or other obstacles, it should be based on love and understanding. Above all, it should be blessed by the Norns. But the creators of fate had wider perspective than the actors in their play. They had made these two soul-mates connected by blood and that was cruel, but Frigga understood that Loki and Hel were only grains of sand in the desert of their existence and there were no coincidences. What they had to go through was for a higher purpose. She had not seen many similar stories, but both sides were to suffer in them. Finally, she slowly approached Hel and placed her hands upon her shoulders.  
  
"There will be time for a reunion with Loki, but we must act fast.”  
Hel was still puzzled by this whole ordeal, but quickly unwrapped her arm from the cloth. She stopped in her movement... that was her arm, a part of her body, something she never thought of losing one day. She had learned how to deal with its deeds. The arm was evil, yes, but in the end, it was hers... she could still feel it on herself... the syndrome of the ghost limb, some would say.  
  
"This is where the power of Nifelheim is... in this... and now it is completely useless."  
Frigga gently took it from her and positioned it upon Loki’s torso.  
  
"No, my dear child. The magic in this hand will never cease, that is why Odin divided you from it. He put his own words into lady Valera’s mouth. He easily manipulated her."  
Hel didn't turn to see what Frigga was about to do next; she still refused to participate completely in this horrible reality of hers. She let herself drift away and just stared at the fresco on the wall... the rich details and strong colors - the funeral of king Bor’s father and in the continuation, there he was, again... looking magnificent and triumphal in Valhalla. She was woken from this trance when she heard Frigga chanting.

 

  
"What are you doing?" she asked tiredly.  
"I am trying to find the infinity stone of chaos; it should be right here in this very place.”  
In here? Well that made sense - where would the infinity stone of chaos be, but here! She could not help but laugh. Oh, Loki and his humor, he put it somewhere no one would look for it.  
"Here!" Frigga exclaimed, "It is here!”  
"Where?!"  
The woman with long soft hair pointed at Loki.  
"He hid it in his armor?"  
"No I don’t believe so... quickly, give me your... that arm, please!"  
Hel’s lips tightened at that but did as she had been told.  
"The seidr of the arm reacts to the one of the stone. Yes it is here... between his ribs.”  
"What?"  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Loki walked along with the six year old boy through the great rooms made of the finest crystals. Rainbows filled every corner thanks to the game of lights.  
  
"This is so beautiful...whose castle is this..?" Narvi had to touch everything in his way.  
"If you wish, it is yours." Loki was content; he always had a feeling that he needed to create a kingdom of his own and pass it to his loved ones.  
"Oh, thank you so much father!" Narvi grabbed Loki’s hand and started jumping with joy. Although the dark god shared the boy’s excitement, he could not help but be reminded of Fenrir -he was so much like Narvi at this age. Eager to see, touch, feel, learn; full of energy and playful.  
  
Suddenly Narvi pulled Loki down to face him: "Uh, I am sorry father, I forgot, I always forget these kind of things."  
Loki raised his brow pretending to be overly curious. "And what things may those be?"  
"You know..." Narvi started rubbing his forehead, "Things from Asgard and Midgard and Vanaheim and... those things... when everything was hard.”  
Actually, Loki had forgotten them as well… since there was no time here, he hadn’t registered how long it was since he was on the waterfall and how long was it since he met Narvi.  
Now the boy was pulling his sleeve, "I must tell you, I must tell you, before I forget…"  
"Well I am all ears, my darling son. If it is so important, please... tell me."  
"I was told that you must go again."  
Loki took his little hand into his own and looked deep into his eyes. "Narvi, who told you this and where do I need to go?”  
"Um... it is difficult to say... they are everywhere... they know everything... they made Valhalla. And they say you must go to Asgard again. That you are very important, and that we had to meet one last time, because you will not be returning. They say that this is goodbye…"  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
   
  
Frigga used the malicious hand to open Loki up and find the desired stone. As soon it was out, the wound closed itself.  
"How clever! When do you think he put it in there?" Hel was all for the mischief herself. Frigga was not surprised.  
She cleaned the stone with some cloth. It was a dark grey mineral.  
  
"If I am not mistaken, he must have placed it there after the first fight with young Fenrir... when the young man stabbed him with his claws… where it was before that - I do not know. I can only guess that it was use for smaller tricks.”  
  
Frigga placed the stone into the skeleton hand. "And now the two must be combined together, the stone and the power of the arm." She proceeded with a long chant and ended with "May those who are dead come to life.”  
Hel did not know this spell; she was only educated in the ones that brought people to their end. She could not see how it was possible to do the exact opposite. No one ever left Valhalla. It was unheard of. That person would be banished from it forever.  
Then, Loki opened his eyes...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> et tu backspace ,et tu?,yes one more key on the keyboard-broken-i had to copy paste comas,periods and delete words with a mouse and a cut option.this makes me so urgh! i just needed an excuse for this pic.love it :D


	24. The repentance...

  
  
"Here is where I must leave you, my children. I am to return to the palace before my husband finds out about my absence."  
They were beneath the green mountains several miles away from the castle. Frigga led them here through the secret passageway that was dug under the hill on which the palace was built. Its primary purpose was to help evacuate women and children in a case of an attack upon the castle. Loki was still pale and slightly unstable on his feet, so he had one arm over Hel’s shoulders for support. The Queen was uneasy seeing them like this. They looked so vulnerable as they set out on the path to go to meet their destiny. Although Hel was very thin and had been mercilessly tortured, she was stronger than one would expect, even Frigga. This was just a part of her repentance and she would gladly take whatever she was due on her way.  
"Thank you. For everything.” Loki nodded.  
  
Frigga gifted them with a warm and reassuring smile and gave the wrapped arm to the girl, but Loki was the one to take it. Hel actually turned her head a bit to the other side, refusing to look upon it. She was hideous before, but now... she didn't need the reminder of how she appeared. This mutilation only showed her where her place really was.  
Damn her hopes for the better future! She would be grateful if she was to return to her pit hole among others like her. Even that was more than she deserved.  
  
________________________________________________________________________________  
  
   
  
When Frigga was out of sight, Loki realized what state his body really was in. His blood had started flowing again; he suffered spasms and strange heat, not to mention a pain in his chest and stomach that was impossible to ignore, as if he was stabbed and pierced all over again... and again… Frigga was risking too much and he had wanted not to concern her more than was necessary, so only now he took the luxury to fall from his feet and find a comfortable place with his back leaning onto a large stone. He was taking deep breaths and tried to invoke his magic. His body had died... it was very much possible that his seidr had as well. Without it... he did not even dare to think what the outcome would be. It was not about him anymore, nor had it ever been... he was a part of a larger picture. He only came to realize this on the other side. He had found out that one got to know his real importance and role only when one had finished it. When one died. That, indeed, was unfair. But it was up to the person to either accept her/his path or to struggle against it and make his or her existence a lot harder. He laughed heartily... oh, how difficult it would be then for him, if he was fighting the Norns...  
he could only feel slight tingles in his hands, but no real light... He had to concentrate harder... he gritted his teeth and even the sweat appeared on his forehead... It was shameful and truly horrifying for the black haired fallen god to lose his very essence... Nevertheless, he would try until he die (again), if that was what it took... no giving up, no more, not ever. Odin must pay... Asgard’s cruelty would meet its end...  
  
"Come on... come on!"  
At last! He sighed with immense relief when green smoke appeared from his hands. It was not much, but to him it was the equivalent of a miracle.  
"Thank the Norns! All is not lost!"  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
Loki’s family had never had it easy; especially in their desperate attempt to escape. The quickest and safest way would be, of course, via the Bifrost, but the guardian Heimdall was loyal to Odin and never questioned the old king’s methods, no matter how unethical they were. Loki had very few words for this man and honorable was not one of them. Heimdall would rush to Odin straight away and Frigga’s cloaking spell was, at this moment, the only thing that was protecting them, since Loki was newly back among breathing ones and with the two suns, there were not enough shadows for Hel to take advantage of them. She knelt to examine his wounds. They were healing, but not as fast as they used to; unfortunately that was to be expected. Then his gaze met her shoulder and the emptiness below it.

  
"I am sorry, Hel."  
"For what?"  
"For..." He knew she understood; her expression momentarily changing form soft to serious and cold, her full lips turning into thin lines.  
"For what you have been through. You should have not suffered for my sake. No one should. Odin will pay dearly, just you wait my daughter! He will fall on his knees and beg...oh, he will cry for mercy and I will give him none!" Loki’s outburst was a good sign; hopefully he would recover completely within a day or two.  
"I am fine. You should worry about yourself first.”  
He wanted to protest and say something vengeful, but she was faster.  
"You were dead, do you understand, father? Frigga, the goddess of light has used the darkest magic ever known and only to the very few, for that matter. I still can not comprehend ho..."  
"The stone," he said, taking the grey mineral from his small pouch, "it is not as powerful when it stands alone, but when combined with another of its kind or something that possesses a similar amount of magic, it can create pure chaos. The unnatural becomes natural."  
"There... when I was there... I saw your brother Narvi. He is well, Hel, he is well... and he said…" Hel believed him, for she knew Narvi and Vali were blessed with eternal peace. Their souls were not corrupted since they were killed at such a young age and they had not had the time to be tainted.  
“What did he say?"  
"That I am needed here and I know why Frigga brought us to this particular place."  
He did not mention the part that he would not return to Valhalla. That was to be a shame like no other. But he was aware that his future actions would be to blame for that and he would not try to change their course by any means. The girl furrowed her brows. She only wanted this nightmare to end, she wanted - no needed - a place to rest, to sleep, to feel no more and yet both Frigga and Loki spoke in riddles.  
  
Loki suddenly got the urge to carry on with their mission, whatever it really was, so she quickly assisted him with getting up. He had hidden his state as best as he could so he would not concern Frigga and Hel wanted to do the same for him. He was walking easier now, but still the nerves would play a trick on him from time to time and the pain would surge through his body. Despite all this, he was radiating with hope. "This way..."was all he said.  
  
They did not enter the cave as one would think. No - Loki continued with Hel to walk along the mountains side. Hel would turn often in quite a suspicious manner. She knew one could never know if one was being followed, nor by whom. These woods were the home of other species as well. After maybe five minutes Loki, much to her surprise, threw himself onto the fractured stones and started frantically to put his hands into every crack in the rocks... Hel concluded that he was looking for some kind of a portal. It would not be the first time. He was a trickster after all, and it was in his nature to find other ways to leave the golden realm. In fact he was finding an alternative to all and everything. He had been using his secret pathways to visit her and Fenrir in Nifelheim. Call it female intuition but her heart was, for some reason, directing her to a particular crevice. By placing a hand there, the rocks began to shake and as they looked on, formed a small door.  
  
Loki was astounded, for Hel hadn't even asked where they were heading, yet she was the one to find this door never-the-less. He didn't want to tell her their destination. To have to see the disappointment in her eyes and sorrow if they failed... No, Loki Odinson would never witness that look in the eyes of any of his children. They needed to crouch so that they could enter trough the doors...  
  
"It was made by the dwarfs...for the dwarfs.”  
"I have noticed!" She smiled. When the doors closed they were in total darkness and Loki created a small green flame to light their surroundings. There was nothing else but the silver writings on the wall... the letters were almost without angles and softly curved. They were nothing like the Asgardian ones.

"Read them Hel." Loki demanded.  
"Why me? I don't even understand this language. What does it say?"  
"The dwarfs were wise and careful. They knew that it would be most likely that men would try to find their hideout and search for the fortune they possessed. It is by no means a myth, Hel. If a male read this, he would turn into stone, but a woman would know how to do it properly. You have found the path by listening to your inner voice, so... use it again."  
Hel sincerely doubted herself. How would she read this, when she had been the one to ruin everything?  
"I… I can not do this, father... do not make me… I will read it wrongly..."  
  
Loki gently cupped her face and looked earnestly into her eyes, "All shall be well... if you read it wrongly, nothing shall happen, I promise. But then again, we will stay here until you do - because there is no way out. The doors open only from the outside."  
"You have used this door before, yes? But who read the writings for you then?"  
Loki tried to make his face unreadable, "Lady Valera."  
"Oh… I see."  
"As a half-elf, she is acquainted with the culture of the dwarfs."  
"But how did she get out?"  
He grinned almost proudly of his Elvish lover, "That tiny detail, my dear, she has never revealed to me.”  
That wench, Hel thought, for more than one reason.  
"Very well; I shall try..."  
She looked at the letters again, and widened her eyes when she sensed their earthly seidr. Some of them were not to be read - their vibrations were off and smothering, others were sticking out and their vibrations were light and inviting... she laughed at how the message was so simple... but, then again -both the dwarfs and elves were not prone to the philosophy and deceits that Asgardians and Midgardians were. One of their traits was simplicity - they left complications to the other two species .  
"The stone doors  
Of the cave dwarfs  
Shall not be opened,   
Not by the voice of a man,  
But by the voice of   
Moon woman.”  
"The moon woman?" Hel raised her brow.  
  
Loki had a wide smile upon his tired face. "That means that the woman must wield magic to read this, for no ordinary lady could have done it without turning into a sculpture herself."  
"And you were going to tell me this... only now? When I could...?"  
"Hahahaha, do not fret, darling... You need to believe in yourself more, and to do so, well... you do need a push now and then, yes?" She hated his grin right now and before she managed to open her mouth the letters started to glow and its light surrounded them.  
"Father, what now?!"  
"Hold onto me!" Loki chanted some words that were unknown to the girl, but they appeared to be dwarf-ish...   
And just like that, they disappeared from the realm of Asgard.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Once she was back in the Royal chambers, Frigga securely locked the doors behind her. She let out a deep breath as she found out that all was still and Odin was probably sleeping.  
She moved soundlessly towards their shared bed. It was a large bed made of an old oak and had a tall wooden heading. All those blankets and wool would, hopefully, protect her from her own thoughts and deeds... dreams that may come were welcome and the only option right now... she would not take anything less than that.  
The moment she looked at the bed she shared with her husband, her eyes grew wide... it was empty!  
Then a candle was lighted on the other side of the room. Odin was fully clothed and even wore a grave expression upon his face:  
"Where have you been, my darling wife?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will edit as soon as i can.also they keyboard is playing it s own tune ...lol  
> what to do with fandral-he needs a relevant role ...and do you want frigga alive or dead?  
> tnx for reading.


	25. Land of the dying sun...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i aint happy about this one either,...the action should be in the next one-well the preparation for the action...  
> this chapter contains weird family fluff ...it is a chapter-in-between since i don't know what to with frigga yet...or fandral,for that matter.

Hel was sitting on a stump; at first, her gaze had been directed to the fire, but then she had lost herself in deep thinking as she had turned and stared at the great lake they were near. Loki and she would participate in the changing of history, but not alone. Fortunately enough, the time passed differently in every realm...1 day in Asgard was two months here. When the white light had teleported her and her father into the void, she had been very much afraid that it was where they would stay permanently. They were below the abyss that had taken Fenrir. But then again, this place was surely not an emptiness... it was very much alive. It was a place between realms... full of the foreign energies surging from one realm to another, reminding her how everything was connected. They had been floating in the black middle of nothing and everything for an unknown period of time when Loki took her hand, and when their fingers entwined, he took the infinity stone once more... His voice echoed through this timeless space, which only made Hel shiver with awe. "Frigga said that we must find the red stone, the one you wore as a ring. The grey stone will recognize its location and direct us to it.”  
Hel said nothing when the sinister grey tone burst with cold light. The ray connected itself with one of the many portals and then let the portal’s hole swallow it.  
  
Her voice was shaking. "Are we to go there, as well?"  
The portal was sheer vertigo like all the others in here. This one consisted of green and grey stars that were sucked in, never to return.  
"I am afraid so, Hel.”  
He paused, and then firmly grabbed the stone and placed it upon his chest. He chanted the spell; both he and Hel became part of the light and went through the portal.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The first moments in the realm of the great snake were both a pure shock and joy to them all... Hel screamed when they were warmly welcomed by her beloved son, Fenrir. He was well... his clothes had sand on them, but he was in one piece. What truly struck her was her other son, Jormungandr. She could never in her wildest mind imagine to have borne such a creature... to her, he was magnificent... he was hers after all.  
It was impossible to hug him. She could only caress his scales. Her old emotional wounds had come to the surface and she needed to cry herself out. How could Odin take her son away from her? She never knew he existed, even though he was Fenrir’s twin brother. The time difference between their births had made him much older. Oh, how many precious things had been taken from her! She kicked and hissed and swore and cried and wept.  
  
Jormungandr understood. He nodded his huge serpentine head to all she spoke to him through tears and anger. He already knew the whole story, but he listened to his petite young mother as she poured her heart out over and over again. He had imagined her voice countless times and he loved every word that came through her mouth. He already loved her. What made their first meeting even more special was the very fact that she only looked at him with no fear, disgust, hate or sadness - all that was reserved for the others - she looked upon him as a mother should. He had learned to control his emotions but he could never deny that her love was the most precious thing one could give him; the only true thing he had yearned for in this lonesome prison of his.

 

Since he could not physically comfort her, or wipe her tears, Fenrir was the one to do it for him. Loki was standing in the very place where he had appeared with Hel only minutes before. He wanted only to join them, but he had seen Fenrir only two days ago and he had sent him here. In a way, it was his or the boy’s death... Fenrir probably still hated him. So Loki distanced himself, so that he would not disturb the boy. His older son was very perceptive, and even if Fenrir had said something awful about his "monster of a father”, the serpent had probably weighed both sides and determined the truth himself. Loki smiled with pride... while Fenrir was unpredictable and without patience much like Hel, the true strength of Jormungandr laid in his mind, just like Loki’s. When the pale girl calmed herself and rested on her son’s tail, the raven-haired boy turned and took fast steps towards his father. Loki expected an all out spate of yelling; to be blamed for Hel’s condition, possibly a physical attack, but he never expected Fenrir to simply embrace him and let his tears flow. "I have been greatly mistaken about you father... please, forgive me..." the young man said, his voice thick with tears.  
  
His son sunk to his knees; his eyes watery and now he was kissing Loki’s hand. Loki did not feel a need to forgive him for anything, as there was nothing much to forgive; Fenrir had fallen into insanity that was thankfully, and hopefully, behind them. He raised the boy to his feet and gave him a true father’s hug.  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The sunset never ended. Never gave way to the moon or the stars. What a strange land this was! They were here for few days, which in Asgard would be mere minutes, and still the sky was burning blood red and screaming yellow colors with a hint of pastel tones of pink and purple. There was not much to eat, either. Some water creatures that were enough for Jor and Fen, but were absolutely repulsive to Loki, so he and Hel had to create their nourishment with the help of magic. But all in all, it was beautifully peaceful. Peace was underestimated. And freedom...  
  
There were no predators or people who would attack them.  
  
"May I...?" Hel lifted her head. Loki was gesturing, asking if he could join her on the stump. Both his eyes and mouth were smiling - he indeed was, she would dare to say - happy.  
  
Without looking at her, he said: "I have a gift for you."  
  
She put her hand into the fire, to see how long it would last there. It was a small, transparent diversion. Loki was making her feel uncomfortable, so she jested to make the uneasiness go away: "Oh, what kind of gift? Have you carved something on the rocks? Or made me a sand dress?"  
  
These gifts would be both funny and lovely, for she would exchange the luxury and extravagance of Asgard for this pitiful realm, where her sons and father were, anytime.  
  
Loki, on the other hand, had something else in mind. He lifted her sleeve - the one covering the empty space that had once been her arm:  
  
"I think this is worth so much more..."  
  
He blew to her shoulder, and just like that, the bones started growing, the muscles. Nerves appeared from nothing, manifesting the whole arm, and finally they were enveloped by pale skin. Hel gasped as she gazed upon her new arm - it was perfect! It looked so normal - the skin tone matched her own skin. She could move both the arm and the fingers.  
  
"By the all that is holy, father!" She held it firmly, to make sure it was real. Loki was pleased - he had wanted to do this spell ever since Hel was a baby, but her dark arm rejected it, fighting to stay in its original form, making sure that the black magic could flow more freely.  
  
"It seems that the dear all-father has actually done you a favour!" Loki grinned, "This arm does not posses the power to rule Nifelheim, but it will befit you and as for ruling, you never needed anything else but your wit."  
  
"I... I thank you... this makes me a new woman."

"No, the body does not make a new woman, Hel. Your heart does. And such a wonderful young woman you are, indeed. Now, we have to do something about that leg of yours as well.”

 


	26. The Plan...

  
Thor - the future king of Asgard, - brave and loved by all, was rarely seen in an angry state. Even in battles, he wore that well known smile of his. He knew he would win. He always won. Almost always. In those rare, but bitter moments when his face was dark and threatening, all ran from his path. No matter whether you were a servant, a nobleman, or someone of another station, there was a high possibility you would not end up well. His moods were, so to say, clear as day... or better yet, in this case... fearful as the horrifying storms that raged outside. His thunder ripped the skies and set the trees on fire...  
  
Many had asked how it would be when he really did become the king. No one then would be above him and they all would be at the mercy of his whims. But on this grey day he was righteous in his wrath. He literally stormed into his parents’ chambers, almost breaking the large doors as he slammed them open. Odin coldly turned his side towards his firstborn; none of Thor’s actions were a surprise to him...  
"Leave us!" He ordered the servants in a most unimpressed tone, and they were gone in the blink of an eye, which did not mean that they would not eaves-drop. In a sense, it was a tradition here in the court.  
"WHAT IS A MEANING OF THIS?!" Thor shouted as loud as he could. Odin acted indifferently and his one eye continued to stare through the golden haired prince.  
"I am not sure. What do you mean?" It was a cynical answer, but Thor was not the type of person to recognize it. To Thor all was to be fair, everything said to one’s face, all cards placed on the table.  
"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL! WHY HAVE YOU ORDERED FOR MOTHER TO BE PLACED IN A CELL?"  
"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN, THOR!” Odin shouted back, now enraged. “Why have I ordered it so? Why? You ask? Well let me tell you, then!" He shortened the distance with his son with slow movements, yet not too close... he kept a safe distance.  
"Frigga has committed a high treason. She is to be punished for it."  
It took a few long moments for Thor to understand properly what had been said.  
"I do not believe it! Mother would never do such a dreadful thing. Surely you are mistaken!"  
"Enough!" Now it was Odin’s turn to be in charge of this argument. "She has freed and then helped prisoners to escape!"  
Thor’s mouth was wide open... just hanging there in utter shock. "Prisoners... what prisoners?”  
  
\---------------------------------------------------  
  
Four figures were sitting around the fire... the atmosphere was rather thick and the youngest protagonist, Fenrir, was both shivering with excitement and almost forgetting to breathe.  
Jormungandr’s slanted eyes followed the movements of the others... he was mostly willing to participate in this plan, but there was no joy in this; war was war. Bloody and heartless; leaving nothing but desolation.   
  
Hel’s feelings were divided. As a mother she had her fears, of course. She feared for all of them... for all these unusual men that were a part of her soul and being. They were everything to her. Yet, with her luck, she felt she would soon lose them again. However, as a young woman and a queen with a stolen childhood, she thirsted for revenge.

Loki, now fully healed, looked at all of them with both pride and yet with deepest concern. But there was no going back; not from this point. He was to take the role of a strategist. They must strike before Odin found out where they were, which would be soon, very, very soon...  
  
"Family of mine.” He said, and paused. "We have all fallen from the grace of Asgard and now Asgard is to fall from our hands. It was said and it shall be. Frigga has redeemed her previous alienation to us in a time when Odin has decided upon our exile without even giving us a choice to choose for ourselves. He is the butcher of all of us... I am telling – no - ordering you that, whatever may be, Frigga is to be spared... is that clear?"  
Jor hissed, which could mean anything. Fen nodded (he was fond of the darling Queen, after all) and Hel placed her new hand on top of Loki’s.  
  
"Time shall serve us, until we provide ourselves with a worthy army... Hel, you will return to Nifelheim. We are in a need of all and any who can carry a weapon."  
"Alright, Father" she responded quietly; she admired his new found strength. She had never seen him like this. She only knew a tormented man who limited his own possibilities for the sake of others - for the sake of his family.  
Loki lifted his head to look up into the great serpent’s green orbs: "My son. You shall visit the realm of dwarfs, Nidavellir."  
"But, were not the dwarfs the ones to make the hammer of Thor and Gungnir for Odin?" The serpent was very familiar with many things, and his concern was not without reason. Fenrir suddenly interrupted: "Yes, but Odin never re-paid them for all their hard work. They were carpenters, smiths and valuable sword-makers and were nevergranted the royalties they earned. The Asgardians stole a large part of Nidavellir’s treasures, and the dwarfs never forgave them that. The way All-father treats other realms is oft-time disgraceful."  
  
Jor curled his long neck; his voice trembling with the anticipation. He hated Odin and the sight of his smaller brother so eager to fight against the powerful army of Asgard made him smile. Again, Jormungandr was not mentally made for a war, but physically he was a dangerous weapon and he would use his body as such. To fight side by side with his brother and parents was a strange privilege. He had once feared he would never even have a chance to see them, let alone share something important with them. But he hid his emotions once more: "I agreeeeeeeee. Now I shall go to visit our dwarfish friends."  
"Thank you, my son." Loki said and they both shared a short but deep emotional moment, their eyes telling more than words ever could.  
  
"My youngest son." His attention was on Fenrir now.  
"Your task will be to visit Jotúnheimr. They know of you as my grandson and will welcome you in a proper manner. They will not attack you, I promise you this."  
Fenrir was unwilling to go there; he had never visited the realm of eternal ice and had heard so many negative stories about the frost giants. Of course, all of those stories were from an Asgardians’ point of view, but he was only 1/4 frost giant and perhaps that was not enough. Loki placed a hand on his shoulder, sensing the boy’s doubts. "You will be fine. I know it. And you will make us proud."  
Fen was not convinced, but smiled anyway. Loki moved some distance away from them and placed the three infinity stones on the ground - the chaos stone, the wish stone, and the power stone....  
  
"Mother," Fenrir asked, "where is father going?" he was the only one uninformed, his mental state still being so delicate.  
"To Muspelheimr.”

 


	27. Frost Giant Vs Fire Giant..

  
In the era which people of Midgard called the middle ages, or the dark ages, the nine were divided. There were only a few paths to travel between them and the easiest was, of course, the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge. It was opened for and closed to passage only when the All-father allowed. Long before this, when some of the worlds collided, there was pure chaos. Floods were rife, as were earthquakes, mixing of the species, killings, battles and more. The Norns saw all this and placed the chaos into the grey stone. That way its seidr was to be controlled. Luckily, only a few possessed the knowledge to use its power.  
  
Long ago, Midgard (Earth) was close to the world of eternal flame, known as Muspelheimr. Midgard at that time was nothing more but a dead planet of lava and volcanoes. Centuries upon centuries later they had a close encounter with the world of nothing but winter and ice - Jotúnheimr. The great flood that was mentioned in the religious books had occurred when the world of the great serpent had a direct impact upon the world of mortals. The only realm that stayed close to Midgard was Nifelheim.   
  
The cult of death was and is a part of every culture on a small fruitful planet such as Earth and the sightings of so many unwanted spirits of deceased ones only proved that.  
The three ancient women that created the destiny of every being on the Yggdrasil tree, also called the Norns, came to an agreement. This separation was unwelcome. The hate and fear of the unknown benefited no one but those with a wicked heart. Someone like Odin. They had high hopes in him, but he had chosen greed and selfishness. Odin would fall... the chosen realms would come together once more and the end of gods would come. They would be replaced by the age of those beneath them. Until those beings created the vicious cycle again. They looked upon Midgard - where the mortals had all the same good and bad qualities as the creatures of other realms. Midgard was to be the next center point of the tree and it would be interesting to watch how the humans would wield what was offered to them.

 

.............................................................................

  
The world of fire...   
  
The seas and oceans of lava, unimaginable temperatures, the sounds of cracking and melting rocks and eruptions... This was the only realm where a being from any other world would die within mere seconds. But not the half-Jotuun prince. Loki was probably the most powerful sorcerer of his time and he would be damned if he did not know how to use a protection spell. The sights were mostly unpleasant and he would be lying if he had said he was not afraid to lose his concentration and let his spell weaken. His footsteps left holes in the thin volcanic crust for the lava to burst out onto the surface. The thick smoke was suffocating. He closed his eyes for a moment to gain his composure... .all is well, all is well.  
  
There was a movement on the surface of the lava river and from it, a creature made of fire and nothing but fire emerged and started to approach him.  
"Who are you?" The creature’s voice was deep and threatening.  
"I am Loki -of Jotúnheimr!" (Yes, I deny my father, Loki thought... but then again, Odin is dead to me... he is no father of mine) "I seek the presence of the great giant, Surtr.” The creature tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.  
"A Jotuun... in Muspelheimr... it is a lie! You must be some sort of a spy! Your appearance is of one from Asgard.”  
  
"No it is not! And I am not. If you would be so kind as to tell me where can I find..?"  
"Here... I am here....!" The voice came from behind Loki. Loki showed no fear as he turned around... he looked regal in his armor and with his sceptre; calm, but he was cautious. He knew not how to talk with this giant; he could only guess. Surtr was tall - almost as tall as Jormungandr. He was a creature with large horns, black flesh and fire that lighted every pore in his skin.  
  
"I have heard of you... the mage, Loki... Odinson..." He stressed the surname and Loki had to use all diplomacy and wit to not show his reaction. The fire giants were no fools; no matter how Asgardians perceived them.  
"I am not Odinson, not any more. And that is partly the reason why I came to you. You have something I want, and I have something you want.” As Surtr breathed, the black smoke came from his nose and mouth, yet Loki didn't even blink.  
"Go on mage."  
"I am gathering an army... a large, powerful army that will bring an end to the rule of Odin and the kingdom of Asgard. I require your help."  
"What has Odin done to you to hate him so, and what can you offer me in return for such an army." Surtr was smiling in the most evil way. He didn't believe a word Loki said, and was probably deciding how to kill the smaller man. Loki’s voice deepened with seriousness; "I was accused, by your compatriot, of being a liar and Odin’s puppet. I aim to prove you wrong, for I despise him. He has brought nothing but ruin upon those close to me. But this revenge is not only on a personal level; his power is increasing and it will not take long until your world and the worlds of others will suffer greatly under his cruelty. He is waging war with Jotúnheimr. Once Jotúnheimr is destroyed, and it will be, a branch upon the tree of life will wither. Then the mighty King will turn his eye upon Alfheim or Nidavellir..."  
"This is not our problem half-Jotuun bastard. Odin would never enter the gates of Muspelheimr."  
Loki smiled. "That may be so, but I seem to recall that you were not only a resident of Muspelheimr; you were fee to travel within the borders of the nine, yes?"  
"Yes..." Surtr gave him his attention; perhaps this conversation would bring him the power he desired for himself. He scrutinised the green eyed man. Loki was, in some way lying about something, and when Surtr discovered what, he would make the prince wish he had never been born. But, until then, he would take all the "assistance" that was offered him. The fire giant couldn't care less for the other realms. Then, again... one day, all of them would kneel before him, or face the fate of Muspelheimr... and become part of Muspelheimr itself.

  
"You lived on the plains where rivers, much like this here, exist under ground. I can only imagine how it is for you to be trapped here. With my help, you will regain your freedom.” Loki said.  
"You?! Hahahaha... even with all the seidr you have, mage... even if you can give me that, it is not enough. I desire more..."  
The raven haired man thought for a moment; "What if I tell you that you can be a king of two realms? Muspelheimr and the land of the dead – Nifelheim.”  
The giant was actually intrigued. "Oooooooooooh? Tell me more then."  
"I will give you the hand of my daughter, Queen Hel."

 


	28. Of Allies And The Enemies...

  
Hel’s task was the easiest one by far. Her minions, no matter if they liked it or not, were to submit to her wishes. Since she had previously been known as a firm but fair ruler, her order that they must go to battle under the flag of Nifelheim and march against Odin himself was not taken lightly. Some of them feared that this would end their hopes of going to Valhalla. Other found themselves to be incapable of fighting. Hel reassured them that she would improve their abilities and that they would be victorious. Many of them thought that unlikely and felt inclined to rebel, but since it was futile and there was no where to go, in the end they submitted to her. She had never seen them so unwilling to obey her and some had to be threatened with eternal tortures... They were empty threats, of course, but she had little patience now - less then ever before and was not going to take any chances. There were too many of them and she was once again alone in this. Being in charge at the top alone. Who would want that? Yes, the outcome of her actions might not benefit them all,but she had hoped that the end result will be. There would be no more borders - those who were not destined to go to the realm of the eternal bliss could walk freely within all other worlds. Then she remembered the warrior with the blond hair and green eyes - Fandral. Something inside her tightened; where was he? She would forever feel guilty about his death. In some other space and time, perhaps they could have been together...  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
  
She was not the first to return to the realm of the great serpent. They had all agreed that this vast land was the best place to return and discuss their future battle plans. This was mostly because of Jormungandr’s physiology - he required water and it was quite difficult to camouflage him because of his sheer size and appearance. There would be a panic. Until they were all in agreement that he would be safest here.  
  
Loki and Fenrir had a light chat near the small cabin that Fenrir had built from wood when he first came here. When he saw his daughter, Loki only smiled even wider.  
"As I predicted; your part was done in the shortest amount of time and with positive results, yes?"  
Hel looked tired and didn't see the reason for any gloating - or for celebrating for that matter. She felt like she was betraying her people. This was mostly Loki’s idea, not hers. Ever since he came back from the other side, he had acted as if he had lost his own boundaries - he became more arrogant, vengeful and paid no attention to other people’s feelings as he had before. His role as a parent had turned into a role of a warrior and trickster. She had asked him on more than one occasion about his change in behaviour and all he would say was that he did not see things 7-dimensionally like others on Asgard did, that there are more directions and he was a painter of a larger picture. That was an oxymoron. He was fully aware that he was not the one to decide his own destiny - he could only chose how to react to the inevitable. But was all this inevitable as well? Or was Hel acting too much like a woman... emotional and weighing every word. She needed to be more distanced and think more logically. There was a war ahead of them and she needed to use her mind first and heart second.  
  
Hel was eyeing her son. Whatever Loki had said to him had made him inexplicably joyful. In some other situation that would have been a good sign, but this was all about killing and destroying... she would have to monitor things from the background and interrupt when things took the wrong turn.   
  
And they would.  
  
"Yes. All is going according to plan. The Nifelheim army will be ready in time; those who do not posses a weapon will make themselves one."  
Loki clapped his hands.  
"Excellent! Another piece of wonderful news!" He turned to his son, "Fenrir was successful in his own journey as well and was greeted with honors in Jotuunheimr, despite his own doubts. Tell your mother then, Fenrir, about your trip!"

  
Fenrir’s eyes were glowing as if this was some sort of a game. He had never seen the true horrors of war. "It is true. I feared the worst when I arrived. Never could I imagine such coldness and so much ice and snow and how tall the frost giants are. Yet they brought me in front of my father’s brother Helblindi, who is the king. He listened to me and almost instantly agreed to provide us with his men. I think we all know about the Jotuun’s opinion of Odin."  
  
Hel bit her lip. has no one thought about the consequences? If they did indeed win, who could guarantee that their "allies" would not turn against them? This was a never ending cycle, but she would discuss with them this later on; she was exhausted and feared those internal voices would come back to haunt her. She could not afford that kind of vulnerability at this point. She patted Fenrir’s shoulder and smiled: "You have done well. I am proud of your courageousness.” Fenrir returned the smile. He saw that his mother was actually sad. Her eyes said so, but this was his chance to do something right for a change. This was his penance....  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Hold the beast!" one of the dwarfs cried out as they tried to tie down Jormungandr. There were a few hundred of these small warriors throwing ropes around the serpent. Until he had appeared before them, they had only encountered the beast through legends and stories where a large snake came from the lake to eat their children.  
  
"Release me you fools!" Jor screamed and threw his head back and forth. Those who were holding onto the ends of robes were pulled in the air. Others were preparing their spears and arrows.  
"I came to you as a friend!"  
"Lies!" One of them with a large curly grey beard came forward, "Do you believe you can trick us with such a tale? Ha! Do not be mistaken giant monster! We are much shorter than you, but we are fierce and skilful in battle and we will not hesitate to skin you and roast you!"  
The other men started cheering: "Yes! Feast! Feast"  
The grey-bearded dwarf laughed.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Asgard.  
The golden-eyed guard, the one whose eyes carefully traced everything and everyone in all realms, was kneeling in front of the All-father. Odin was upon his throne and seemingly irritated with the present events.  
"Yes, what is it Heimdallr?"  
"My lord, I bring you important news about Nifelheim and Muspelheimr! Nifelheim..."  
He was cut off by the King. "Yes?! Yes?! Speak!"  
"There will be a war, sire."  
Odin leaned back into his seat and stared in front of himself. "So it has begun."  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Frigga was pacing around her cell; she could sense the danger. The war-guards whispered. She knew this is to be, but still - killing was not in her nature and she hated every bit of it. Then she realized that someone was watching her, and had been for some time now.  
  
"Odin?" It was unheard of for the king to visit the cells. He would instead send for the prisoners he wished to see.  
"You gave me no choice, Frigga. Your act of disloyalty to me and to Asgard was disgraceful and I have come to the decision about the penalty you shall suffer. You are to take Hel’s fate in her stead.  
  
“The punishment for your treason is death.   
  
“You will be executed in a few days."

 


	29. Omens of the Crows ...

  
The news travelled as quick as the speed of light, especially that of Frigga’s execution. Loki had sent the message to all the realms which were to fight on their side. The attack would be much sooner then predicted, now. This was inevitable, Hel thought, yet still there was no Jormungandr in sight nor the answer from Nidavellir. Something had gone terribly wrong. The young mother protested to Loki for forbidding her to seek her eldest son. His own concerns were of greater importance to him and at one point she became hysterical and slapped him. How could he not care? He grabbed her by the wrists using his calming spells and looked deep within her eyes and beyond. When he found the demon which was playing with her mind, he cast it out and Hel finally let him be in charge. But she begged him to go instead of her, only to be coldly rejected with the pitiful excuses such as there was no time and that the main obligation was to make sure all was in order before the attack. If he left, the allies might think that he had tricked them and there was no saying what would happen then.   
  
In reality, Loki feared of what Jormungandr’s fate might have been. The dwarfs of Nidavellir were an illogical and barbaric species. He mentally prayed for the well-being of his son, but he could not and must not leave and to put Hel in such danger was out of the question. Many would die on this or any other day and he hopped that none of them would be from his family. His heartless appearance, however, did not change, which upset Hel even more and she had to get away from him. She could not look upon Loki as if he was the enemy himself. Although their bond suggested that he did think of all of them, her dark thoughts were now her only company.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Odin could not know that there were millions upon millions of enemies from 4 or 5 realms waiting at the mountains and that new ones were arriving with every minute. Frigga’s death will have to wait, Loki thought sarcastically. He used the power of the stones to teleport the whole army here, since Heimdallr had closed the Bifrost. Using the rainbow bridge would be impossible, but destroying it ...no, Loki would never agree to such a thing. The Bifrost was truly a valuable, if not the most valuable treasure of Asgard. To all others that would be the classical riches, gems, gold etc etc... but the Bifrost was the true reason Odin bathed in wealth. Without it, he could not steal from the others; he could not kill.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The All-father watched them through the large widows of his private chambers .he demanded for the loyal Heimdallr to leave the Bifrost, for he would surely be dead by now.  
  
His problems had increase further since Thor had been placed in the cell. He refused to see what his mother had done wrong. He acted like a child and, by the Norns; he was needed by his side. Thor was needed in the battle.  
Yes, Odin had sent a message for help throughout all the realms; Alfheim, Vanaheimr, even Nidavellir, although he was pretty experienced and expected nothing from the selfish dwarfs. The light elves from Alfheim and Vanir of Vanaheimr had responded immediately and their troops were now arming themselves, together with his own army.  
  
After so much time he was alone. He ordered the guards to leave him be and to wait at the gates. Unless they heard something strange, they were forbidden to enter. He sat on the edge of his bed and took a deep breath. He could hear the yells and screams of the people of Asgard. They were mostly the screams of peasants; they were running to the safety of the castle’s walls. Women and children were crying, men were taking up swords and shields...

  
He slowly stood up and went to kneel in front of the altar of his father, King Bor. There were few statues of king Bor and beneath them were candles with scented oils Frigga had made. There was also wine... there was always to be a golden goblet with the finest wine in it. Odin never prayed in front of others - they prayed to him, but even he, the mighty All-father had his moments of doubts and delusions... and weaknesses. He poured some more wine into the goblet and placed his hands over his chest.  
  
"Father..." He started and then stopped as he heard the sounds of the castle’s gates closing.  
"I do not speak to you often. But I do hope you will not hold this against me, for I have many burdens upon my shoulders and there are too many problems to be solved, yet it seems there is never enough time to do so. I pray to you, oh, mighty, powerful King Bor to grant me my victory today. The one I have earned. I have bled and sacrificed myself for the glory of Asgard alone and did everything that was in my power to prevent this very chaos....  
  
“Father! My strength is leaving me, I am aware of that, but have no doubt that I will kill my own flesh and blood if that is what has to be done for the people of this realm. I will let no one destroy what I have built... what you built! No one! you know I rarely make mistakes... perhaps... I have made a few, back then... yet I paid the price. Being bewitched by the beautiful Frigga - a fitting wife, who wanted nothing more than to take my position. A woman to rule! Haha! She is a deceiving snake, indeed. And one day Thor will see that. He will have to see that. he and I will conquer even Muspelheimr and Svartalfheim. I will give Thor the most precious thing a father can give to his son - knowledge and power. all shall fear him, as much as they do me... and all feared you. Father, let me be worthy of your name - ask the Norns to take the side of the righteous ones. The gold is the color of light of the sun, of Valhalla and they... their armies are darkness, death... night... they are nothing... a bottomless pit, an abyss... and they will return to it. I will spill their blood in your name!  
  
He lifted his arms in the air in respect and drank the wine from the goblet. The wine was strong and he waited... for now he had to find some sort of a sign... something King Bor would send to him as an answer. He spotted a flock of crows flying over the castle.  
"It is a fortunate omen" His eyes grew wide as he whispered with excitement.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"It is a good sign, indeed..." Loki exclaimed as he saw the same flock. The crows were representing his house. Hel once more joined him upon the hill. The sight was miraculous - beneath them was the tempestuous sea and an army that stretched on forever. There were the red colors of Muspelheimr, the black and grey of Nifelheim and the blue of Jotuunheimr. Svartalfheim, however remained silent. The dark elves had never had any real interest in the battle and were expecting to collect what spoils remained after it when the suns were clouded by the smoke and there was nothing left of the once glorious realm. Loki would deal with them... but for now, he left his thoughts to himself. He could see Hel’s gaze upon the sea... her emerald eyes were searching for a larger movement on the water’s surface. Hoping for Jormungandr to appear somewhere. He gently placed his hand upon her shoulder to calm her, "Fear not, all shall be well.”  
"Forgive me if I do not believe you anymore."  
"Time will tell. But my feelings are never wrong".  
Oh yes they were... she closed her eyes, for the sea was calm, unlike her.

 

______________________________

  
The Dungeons.  
  
The guards that were placed to watch the prisoners were called out by their king. The man chosen to deliver the message had to defend himself from the confusion of those who were reluctant to leave their positions, "We can not leave the criminals! Who will guard them if not us!?"  
The messenger guard shrugged.” These are the orders from his majesty - everyone must defend the castle. It appears that there are more enemies than expected. All men are to go to battle! All!"  
  
Although tense and confused, the guards collected their belongings, casting one more gaze at the prisoners. Thor was in the cell not far from Frigga. He could hear the guards leaving, but without understanding what the reason was. Something serious, without a doubt... it could only be an attack of some sort.  
  
He only saw Frigga when he was led in here by the guards. They didn't have time to exchange any words, but it was more than obvious that Thor would have none of this. He would fight for his mother, even if she had sinned against the mighty Asgard... In the end he had only one mother and he would not lose her.  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
   
  
Fenrir climbed up to meet his parents. "All is prepared. They are waiting for your sign, father."  
  
Loki’s expression had changed, softened, but to the others he still looked quite serious. Hel had this effect upon him. She broke down his walls, as he had hers: "There is also the matter of Frigga. Odin could kill her just to spite us, or he could use her as a part of a negotiation or a trade. But, knowing him... I would say it is the first option. The question really is... is she still alive?"  
"She is!" Hel knew, and he could not debate that. It was enough that she did. And he was forever in debt to the Queen for helping them.  
"The only way to solve this would be if someone is willing to sneak into the dungeons and get her out before the massacre starts."  
"Then I’ll be more than willing to do so."  
"Hel, your bravery is admirable, but you have barely escaped from there and if you were to get caught again...."  
"Frigga has risked all to save us both. This is the least I can do. I will bring her back in once piece.... and this time myself as well." She smiled with that beautiful smile of hers and Loki, although he tried not to... smiled as well.  
"There is no stopping you?"  
  
...Obviously not...  
  
"Very well, the battle can not start without these" He opened the small pouch, took out the infinity stones, and placed one of them into Hel’s hand.  
"We will just have to wait, then... women are always late!" He jested, but he was concerned already.  
"May the Norns guide you, Hel."  
"Thank you...father.”  
  
And with a flash of grey smoke, she was gone.

 

"


	30. As The Battle Begins...

As Frigga screamed, Thor threw himself at the cell doors. His large fists slammed at them with all the ferocity he felt inside. The doors did not even bend and he was unable to open them, for they were sealed by a powerful spell, but that meant very little to him. Magic was not his element, fighting was. And something had happened to his mother... He called for her but she did not answer and that made him absolutely mad.

\--------------------------------------------------

Frigga screamed from shock when the hands came from nowhere and pulled her through the thick walls, all across to the other side. She was now far from the dungeons and had the privilege to see her savior.  
"Hel...? The girl made a gesture for Frigga to be quiet. Karma had a sense of irony, providing them both with this deja-vu. The last time Hel was in Frigga’s place.  
"I came here to help Thor as well”

NOT a desirable idea. Frigga wanted her son free of course, but...while she was in the cell, she had thought of the words from her aunt and the great seer Freya. Thor must never be king, she had said. If he was to run loose now, he would attack Odin. Yes, and defeat him. He would be king, but there would be terrible arguments and battles between the allies, both from Loki’s side and the army of Odin. One would accept this strong new ruler while the others would lose their last men only to try to kill him. The balance that the Norns were aiming for would forever be lost. Those who would hold Thor’s side by that time would see how naive he was and they would deceive him and rebel. Thor would fall eventually. Frigga shook her head "No, leave him be. It is better for him to stay here." Hel was young, but was familiar with the machinations and layers of affairs and said nothing more. She used the stone to teleport them to the stables...

\---------------------------------

All the horses were already taken by the guards, except for the royal stallion Sleipnir - the eight-legged horse and the half brother of Hel. Loki would never forsake him, and neither would Hel. The poor animal was frightened as he sensed danger, but Hel did not have the time to calm him down; she was leaving that to the Queen. When Frigga climbed upon his back, she turned with the expectation that Hel would follow and was ready to give her a hand, but was met with the utmost sadness in her eyes and a slight smile. It was so small that there could not be any contrast to her eyes. Only a strong and sincere hope.  
"I don't think we will see each other, Frigga... ever again..."  
"What are you saying child?"   
"Loki gave me instructions to send you somewhere where the effects of this dreadful war shall not stretch. You and Sleipnir are to go to the realm of Midgard. And after that the portal will close. You both will find peace and serenity... Midgardians are still primitive and will give you no problems. Maybe they will worship you as they do gods." A small joke. Frigga was astounded how much of what Freya had said all those centuries ago had came to pass. She was astounded and sorrowful. Perhaps it was better for her and the fragile, gentle creature, Sleipnir, to not witness the horrors of the future.

She gave Hel her most sincere smile and patted the stallion directing her calming spell towards him. "I shall never forget you, darling Hel. Nor you, nor my Loki. I loved him as if he was of my own blood."  
"He knows that, my Queen. Farewell to you and to you, my sweet brother. May the gods protect you.”  
The stone did what was necessary at that moment - letting the grey seidr take the light Queen and the noble horse to the far land of the mortals.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Upon returning to the camp, Hel had much to see. The armies were in their positions and guided by their leaders - Odin and Loki, both wearing their best armour. When had all this occurred? She was not absent for that long. Had Odin already heard that Frigga was nowhere in the castle, or realm for that matter, or was he "saving her for later”, counting upon his victory and killing her afterwards?  
  
"Loki!" Yelled the All-father across the large, wide field that separated the hills and mountains from the castle. "You rotting, half Jotuun runt! You dare to challenge me? Me - the absolute ruler of all the realms! Me - whose ancestors were the most powerful gods..."  
  
"Hahaha!" The raven-haired prince laughed bitterly, "Oh come on, father! You are not a god - you simply refuse to die! Hel does not want you and neither does Valhalla."  
  
Odin gripped his lance, Gungnir, even tighter as he heard the diabolical sounds from the other side. However, he relaxed a bit when he recognized them as the laughs of the monsters.  
  
"I have given you all, Loki!"  
  
"Oh... as I recall... you stole it all..."  
  
One of the reasons why Odin was insulting his son was from fear. Fear that Loki would discover how intelligent and powerful he might be. So he called him the unworthy sibling of his brother, for not having the same skills in the battle, for looking fragile and for wielding seidr like a woman. But Loki tricked him. He had seen through him and used this to his advantage. Loki was a traitor - these conclusions were only a part of Odin’s paranoia. Odin thoughts were of no concern to the sorcerer. He narrowed his eyes to determine how many there were behind the one-eyed King. He spotted Heimdallr immediately, but Thor... Thor was not in sight. How strange. Was Thor disobeying the old man? Frigga would be the cause. Exactly so... He thanked his creators - he could not fight against his brother. Thor and he were inseparable... well, would be if his father had not tried everything to separate them.  
  
"Cease this now and I will spare the others” Odin was referring to the army, "they will meet the punishment for standing on the side of a traitor, but no other harm would come to them after that."  
  
"Is that all?” Loki was not impressed.  
  
"Also... you and your... family are to die, but it would be quickly and painlessly.”  
  
Loki bit his tongue so hard that he could taste the blood. He turned to his numerous men.  
  
"Does anyone here wish to end this? Do you wish to return to your lands?" They all yelled, "No! We will stay! We will fight!"  
  
Loki had the most maniacal grin as he took few steps towards Odin. "Do you hear them? You shall not walk over us ever again. If you surrender to us, I can promise you only the same. I will spare the Asgardians, noble Vanir and Alfehimians and maybe... just maybe, I would even spare you."  
  
Odin, however, never looked back to ask the ones he led for their opinion. He did not care that they had families, wives, children; he was a hardhearted warrior to the core.  
  
"Then we shall fight to the last men standing!  
  
“Charge!"

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

  
The first day of this raging chaos lasted from dusk till dawn. The green meadow was soaked in red; bodies covering the ground, some even hanging from the trees. Jotúuns invoking their icy spears and swords and attacking mostly the Asgardians as they were familiar with their battle style... also there were centuries of torment and killing innocents from the side of the Aesir, and Jotúuns could not be satisfied until the last of the fair skinned warriors had fallen, defeated. The Alfheimian’s silver elves were light creatures and could use the element of wind to jump over their enemies. Their speed benefited Odin as they managed to move in amongst the enemies and gave them a direct strike from behind. 

  
Loki used both his seidr and knives and was mostly unharmed. Even when the Vanirs’ rain of arrows blackened the sky and fell on him. His protection spells worked. He had placed them upon Hel and Fenrir before he did the same on himself. The young Lycan killed without mercy - his thirst for blood was finally being indulged. He bit off many heads, roaring with pride, also being unaware that his mother was always behind him.  
  
Hel without her old arm was weaker, but could take the souls by grabbing the opponent by the heart. The men just collapsed as she drained their life force from them. With every soul that entered Nifelheim that day, her seidr grew stronger. And her own army of the undead ones was strangely successful. Especially after being given special abilities thanks to the infinity stones. When one of them scratched or tasted the flesh of a Vanir or an Aesir, a malign infection would enter their bloodstream. They met their end within mere minutes.  
Muspelheimians were large and strong, but their weakness was a lack of speed. They threw inflamed rocks which were quickly avoid by the Alfheimians and Vanir, oh, but not by the Aesir. The touch of the giants would melt both flesh and bones and Odin had to use his weapon to freeze their limbs as well as he had to raise the temperature in the bodies of the Jotúuns, which made them scream in pain as they burned from the inside.  
  
One of the elves jumped upon Fenrir’s back ready to slit his throat. The wolf tried to get him off by hitting the rocks, but it was in vain. The elf adjusted its position to get a clearer cut and Fenrir quickly turned to his human form, hoping that he could grab some sort of weapon, many of which were spread all around the battle field. But he only made it easier for the silver-haired man.  
"No, you will not!" Hel’s voice was deep as she cut off his head using someone’s axe. Her and Fen’s eyes met with much love in the middles of all this madness. And they took the luxury of that few precious moments for themselves.  
  
On the other side, Surtr ordered his men to attack the palace itself. They had already produced spears of fire and started tossing them towards the towers. Odin’s men stopped to fight as they heard the cries of their own people. Loki somehow went through the sea of men unnoticed, and stood up against the horned giant. "I forbade attacks upon women and children!"  
Surtr looked at him as if he was a worm. "This war was your idea, Jotúun... but you shall not oppose me. I am here to win and win I shall. You can see how weak Odin is. He will not last long. The conquering of his realm and might is within our grasp. By destroying of the palace, there will be no sanctuary for him to run to..."  
Loki s nostrils flared. "Stop! All of you! There will be no more blood spilling on this day...!"  
"Do not provoke me mage..."  
"No! You, Surtr, are the one who should not provoke me. Odin covering your men in ice is nothing in a comparison to what I can do to you. Or would you wish for Muspelheimr to be colder than Jotúunheimr? I have the knowledge to do so... how many men will die then, how many of your children?"  
The giant squinted his eyes, grunting and saying some profound words and then walking from Loki towards Odin. The king’s men were already in their positions covering the All-father and raising their swords. Surtr pushed a dozen of them causing terrible burnings as he made himself a passage through them. When he was but few metres from Odin he mockingly bowed. All were silent as they let the scene play in front of them. If Surtr was to kill the king, that would be the end. The end of all of them. The era of gods would cease to exist and the new era that would replace it would be the era of the monsters.

  
"We..." Surtr paused as he aimed for a dramatic appearance, "...will cease to spill the blood of your worthless small fools, whom you call warriors, oh great All-father.”  
  
There was some hope in those words for many that could still barely stand, and they prayed that this was not a trick of some sort.  
  
"But only so that I may enjoy melting your black heart, King Odin, the next time we meet. I despise your every breath. And I would love nothing more than to make you watch as your golden city is turned into ashes. Only then I would give you the death you deserve."  
  
This infuriated Odin so deeply that he lost self-control. Lighting fired from Gungnir and made a deep scar upon Surtr s face. The giant made sounds of agony and then rushed to strike Odin. Heimdallr jumped in front of the king and was hit instead.  
  
The soul of the guardian was lifted to the skies and disappeared with a flash of color. Many took their helmets off as sign of deep respect for a brave warrior who gave his life to save another, and not only to protect his own.  
  
"Valhalla! Valhalla! Valhalla!”They cheered, but there was no joy...  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The damage behind the walls of the palace was much larger than any previously made in the whole of the countless millennia.  
  
Inflamed rocks and lava had melted bedrock and caused walls of the right tower to fall. There were casualties... material casualties and the Aesir too... mostly peasants for whom Odin didn't care much. People of the realm had escaped and sheltered within the castle itself. Until then it was forbidden for the lower classes to enter the castle’s interior in any way, but it seemed that someone had killed, or better yet, run over the guards. He spared one quick look upon the corpses of his men. The hordes of old, young and female just wanted a shelter and now they were hiding in the kitchen. They stole food as they hid, starving. They were in the halls; some had even made their way into the private chambers of the courtiers. Odin was tired and this only infuriated him even more, so he gave one of the last orders by that day. His guards were to cast all that did not belong here out onto the streets. People protested in fear of the attacks, but had to accept their King’s wish nevertheless. Heimdallr’s funeral and the funeral of those who meant something to the King would be within hours. One could never know when Loki would strike again. He was a fool, obviously unfit to control his own men. This war will not be lengthy, Odin concluded...

 


	31. Between Sides And Worlds ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah,ok sorry for grammar mistakes...also suggestions pls...every character counts...

  
What awaited those of Jotúnheimr, Muspelheimr, Vanaheimr, Asgard, and Alfheim on the next day was the other side of the war. The crude reality, which those that looked upon the battle as a way to prove their manliness, strength and honor found disturbing. Most of them were young and inexperienced. Others took the war as a necessity and some just wanted to kill and destroy. There weren't many of those, but there were a few definite candidates around for those roles...  
On this day, when the horns of battles were quiet, it was time to count the wounded and the dead ones. The only exceptions were, of course, the Nifelheimians. They were an abomination amongst all others.  
  
Those that were killed the previous day would soon join them upon the field. The war was far from over, and yet there were separate factions within Loki’s army. Factions borne from differences in their origins; divergence was the only form of union here. Muspelheimians had little desire to talk to the Jotúuns and were known to be a hermitic and ascetic nation. Nifelheimians were avoided like the plague. It is going to be difficult for some to meet their former friends as corpses and in such a short amount of time. But first, there were bodies to be disposed of - the Muspelheimians had little problems with that. They, as expected, melted the bodies and gathered them in a large pile. As they started to cool off, they added some rocks and from that made a sculpture of their own deity - a large giant who swallows his enemies. To leave such a sculpture on the defeated lands was a tradition. The Jotúuns asked Loki to send the bodies of their dead to Jotúunheimr where their families would take care of them. Loki did so, and with full respect. Nifelheimians moved away from the light, as far as possible and hid within the mountain - they were unused to the suns, but more over, they were an undesirable sight now, when the others mourned.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Asgardian women walked among the rivers of bodies of their men that were lying on the ground around the palace. Lady Valera was one of them. She searched for Loki. She never blamed him for any of this... it was the doing of his unholy daughter. That witch and a necromancer! Odin should have killed her the very day he captured her. All those young men... dead. Some wore horrifying scars and wounds and she had to turn her head or close her eyes a few times - she could not bear to gaze upon those whose faces were pulled off or those who were missing half of their bodies. Understandably, a few women fainted from the horror of it all. And the smell was unbearable. But she would continue in her search, for there was no peace for her until she was sure that Loki was still alive. Odin had told them nothing, except that they had won this battle.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

  
That day passed without anyone even realizing how fast; the hours flew by unnoticed, overshadowed by all the unpleasant work. Loki saw from the distance that there were funeral ceremonies within the walls of the golden city, one after another. And that was very disturbing. The preparations for funerals normally lasted at least a few days .Odin was in a hurry, and although it was unlikely that they would fight again tomorrow, with the All-father you could never know. His strategy was based on pure vanity and pride, not logic.  
  
He could hear the murmurs from the Nifelheimians. Their whispers echoed through the caves of the mountain - they spoke of Loki’s and Hel’s treason and lies, saying that they were a blasphemous family and that their deeds would have a big influence upon the future destiny of all Nifelheimians. Since they were in between two worlds, they craved true death even more. When Heimdallr’s soul reached the heavens, they remembered what they truly craved. And Loki was to spoil their souls. He wanted them corrupted and to be his servants forever. No...no...no....  
  
Loki left them to keep poisoning themselves with these ideas; he was already torn between more than one side. Hel would have to deal with her minions. Loki had Surtr as another major problem - the Muspelheimians praised him for murdering the gold-eyed guardian and he earned their trust once more. He and Loki had not exchanged a word since yesterday, but they both communicated with piercing, hateful stares. It was only a matter of time until Surtr fought Loki himself. Jotúuns were a clever species and they knew what the outcome would be of all this. One of them discretely approached Loki and offered the smaller man to take his rightful place as a Prince of Jotúunheimr and to leave all this behind. A war with the fire giants was not desirable but was already forming as an unwanted expectation. Loki nodded his consideration; he would think about it, he said.  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
  
Fenrir and Hel were sitting around the fire. It reminded them of Jormungandr and time they had spent in his wasteland. Here it was different. The scent of the trees and leaves that fell from them, the birds and other creatures from the forest. It was all filled with life and mystery; a hopeful sight in opposition to the piles of metal and weapons. Drunken men arguing and planning strategies for the upcoming attacks. The smell of roasting - something - Hel didn't want to know what it was. It was not an animal. It could only be the flesh of an Aesir or some other unfortunate. Fenrir was hungry, she could tell by the way his nostrils spread and he stared hypnotically at the large amount of meat. The fire giants’ feast only served to burn him to the core, but this "feast” was meant as an invitation. To attack others minds in such a trivial way and possibly to infiltrate their disloyal ideologies and make them into their trusting and naive companions. Fenrir would be easy prey, and since he was close to Loki he was, indeed, a target.  
  
"You may go, if you wish.” Said Hel, “But please be careful. Do not trust them, whatever they say."  
  
Although he tried to resist he aroma, his stomach objected to a lack of food.  
  
"Oh, I am aware their deceitfulness and I would not go, but… I can not control this. I have drained too much of my energy as it is and..."  
"It is alright...eat something."  
No more encouragement was necessary as the boy practically ran to the larger fire and those creatures. He had many things to learn. Hel lost herself in the forest. The sounds of crunching bones and seeing her son eating what were probably his former friends was unsettling. But that was his nature and there was not much she could do about it.

She needed her peace. The further she went, the more the noises from the camp were replaced by the sweet music of the forest; owls upon the branches, rabbits and foxes bounding in amongst the shrubs. There were so many flowers here; mostly blue and purple of vibrant hues. She finally found a place to rest. The trees were letting the moonlight fall on the small pond, and the grass around it was very soft. She was about to close her eyes when a familiar voice spoke: “Hel. I require your help..."  
  
\----------------------------------------------  
  
Odin sat down to an abundant dinner, but he could not taste what was on the table. His thoughts were detached. His people were outside mourning the fallen warriors and other unfortunate victims of the battle who were to be crippled for the rest of their days. Those fortunate ones that were still in one piece were without any hope and thus they would now fight badly. Odin lied to himself and to his people when he said that they had won. Never in recorded history had Asgard suffered such a defeat.  
"My lord" The messenger bowed as deeply as he could, "I bring you news from the realm of Nidavellir. The dwarves have made a decision."  
Odin could not wait for the letter to be handed to him; instead he grabbed it, almost ripping it.  
  
"Get out. All of you! Now!" the messenger and the servants quickly exited; they feared him as much as they did their enemies. Odin opened the letter from the Nidavellir’s king, Hreidmar.  
"All my respects lie with you, All-father, the mighty ruler of the nine kingdoms. I have received your urgent letter from which it was clear that assistance against the army of your son is highly desirable, and I reply with great haste to you - and with great gladness! For I shall give you my men. In fact, as you read this, they are on their way. We had some smaller issues regarding the large beast from the north lands. But that is taken care of.  
May our friendship stay fruitful and last forever!  
King Hreidmar, the ruler of Nidavellir."  
  
Odin cared not for the numerous titles of the dwarf king. That leech only wanted to join the two realms by marrying off his daughter to Thor. Ha! What an imbecile! Thor would marry an Asgardian woman, and no one else!  
But this was welcome news. Good news, indeed. The army of the dwarves was large and now most certainly the victory would be his. Now, the all-father could finally eat without worry plaguing his mind.  
If only those women would stop weeping...  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
  
He started: “The very night when you fell asleep, back there, in the dungeons, waiting for your execution... I heard a female voice calling my name. She introduced herself as Skuld, one of the Norns. And I knew she did not lie. I felt it only as the purest truth. The shackles that bonded me to the palace were gone. She said that "they" are willing to give me one more chance. A chance to join King Bor in Valhalla.”  
  
King Bor was not in Valhalla, but the black-haired young woman kept her mouth shut, for her words would seem egocentric and selfish and her heart once again welcomed the friendly face of Fandral. The least she could do was listen to him and give him some advice. Many, many strange events had occurred within these last few months. And if the Norns were truly merciful enough to give this man another chance, perhaps this was her chance as well. She could be redeemed for her crimes against him.  
"Tell me what I can do. If it is within my power, I shall not hesitate to help you, whatever it may be."  
  
   
  
"A body, Hel. I need a body...”

 

 


	32. The New Warrior ,But An Old Friend ...

  
The ghost was indecisive. They were fortunate, for there were many bodies left on that meadow. Yes, the majority was destroyed or taken, but there were a couple of hundred left. No eyes, except for those of Hel’s could see Fandral. She owed him this much. He wanted someone of his age or preferably younger, and with similar features. There weren't many Asgardian warriors there and of those there, many were in bad shape; limbless, headless, or with large wounds. Odin had taken to the city only those which where... recognizable.  
  
There were more Vanir there to choose from, but they were shorter and had darker hair, and one thing had not changed - Fandral was a vain person. Hel had to smirk, although she was impatient and this was already taking too long. The bodies would rot or their countrymen would come to collect them, or the fire giants would...  
  
"This one! I choose this one, my dark lady" He was almost ecstatic and resembled a child that had found a lost toy.  
"That one?" She raised her brow - it was not a body of an Aesir or Vanir, but an Alfheimian - an elf. He was taller than Fandral and had long silver hair, but he did have strong cheekbones and chin and long eyelashes. In some way there were parallels there. In Fandral s favor, of course...  
  
"Are you sure? If this works, this is your last body; there is no going back. This will be the home for your soul until you... reach the same shape you are in at this moment."  
“Yes, I want this body, Hel. I always wondered what it would be like to be an elf. The ladies of the court had an eye for them, but they were so stiff. I assure you I shall not be. For it will be my mission to give the Alfheimians a good name." He grinned.  
"Of course, if would not mind having my old body back, but since it got burned...”  
Hel lowered her head a bit, feeling extremely guilty again, but he used his cold finger to raise her chin, "Do not do this to yourself. This will work, I am positive of it, and to prove to you I have forgiven you, I will fight on your and Loki’s side."  
"Thank you...you are a better man than anyone would have guessed. But alas, your kindness was always well hidden under all that..."  
"Boldness? Handsomeness? Nectar-like poetic words and wisdom?"  
"I was about to say narcissism and perfume.”  
"Oh, my lady! You have wounded me again!"  
  
He smiled widely and lay back within the body, adjusting himself. He had no attachments with it so he didn't have a sense of belonging - he was as a ghost.  
"Then, I shall"un-wound "you. Just be still." She summoned bothher old arm and the chaos stone. Her father would never notice they were missing.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
After having too much to drink, a round of one of each wine that palace’s cellar possessed, the one-eyed king fell asleep, hoping for sheer numbness. If he was fortunate, he may have dreams of his future glory.  
But no, he was unfortunate; he left the control in the outer world only to be disturbed in the land of dreams. He saw himself in the black fog... then the moon appeared behind the clouds and his path with was lit. A track that led to the sinister castle upon the mountains... Nifelheim. He saw Hel and Loki there, both wearing crowns. Hel wore hers of black with rubies set upon it and Loki wore the crown of Asgard.  
"This is where you will end... murderer!" Loki threatened.  
  
He woke up covered in sweat and made haste to the bathroom to wash his face and to gather his thoughts.  
"Never! Never... I shall not fail. Not under any circumstances.”

Freyja was wrong - she was Frigga’s aunt, in the end. Both of them had been plotting against him. Frigga had betrayed him and had run off into the unknown. Then something struck him... Thor! After dressing himself, the king marched to the dungeons.  
Thor’s body was tense, but he had managed to get some sleep. His fists and hands were covered in bruises and Odin could see that he had succeeded in making some damage to the doors of his cell. A foolish boy.

"I am sorry, my son, but there is no doubt about the relevancy of this." Odin lifted his hand and started whispering... this was the old spell that erased and changed memory. It never affected two persons the same way. Hel was one of his victims and she had forgotten that she had given birth to two sons, Loki had forgotten how powerful he was and Frigga that she was to marry Odin’s brother instead of him. But she was an exceptional beauty and Odin had to have her.

Thor’s mind could not fight this spell. It was for his own good and for the good of Asgard. Thor would kill Loki without thinking twice.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------

After hearing the gossip about his daughter socializing with the enemy, Loki stormed to Hel’s tent to get to the bottom of this nonsense. Apparently, someone had seen her returning an embrace from on of the light elves.  
When he entered the tent on the edge of the camp, he had a sight to see. The rumors were right, after all!  
"What is this and who is this?!"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup...fandral is definitively having thranduil s body (although thranduil here does not exist as thranduil-just to mention)...how do u want loki to react?need your help.also will edit,not yet,for there is no time.sorry


	33. All is Fair in Love and War...

  
After the fallen princess had to explain in detail everything about the presence of the blue-eyed elf, Loki instructed her to leave the two of them to discuss the matter on their own. This time, she did not confront her father, but exited the tent. Loki studied the elf, looking him up and down and all over again. The Alfheimians were known to have impeccable manners and to use few gestures. This person was indeed a black sheep; his gaze was unsteady, running around... and landed on Hel’s chest few times, which only made Loki s blood boil. He had a wide smile and his movements were smooth and inviting. There was no doubt that this was Fandral. Loki ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. He could understand the motives of his daughter, but she had "borrowed" the stones without asking, and wielding their power was meant for someone of his calibre, not her. Even though she was guilty of killing the man, albeit by accident, something about the blond warrior unnerved the sorcerer.  
  
"So, we meet again. Under most unusual circumstances."  
The elf relaxed and grinned. Loki wanting to talk and not use his seidr against him was a nice way to start the day.  
"Well, I could say the same for you. We have something in common now. Unfortunately, I could not retrieve my previous body, but I shall not complain. This one will serve its purpose."  
  
Loki s expression was quite serious. "Do you know to whom this body belonged?"  
The elf shrugged. "Unfortunately, I do not. I have not paid any attention to the male representatives of this species.”  
  
Loki leaned deeper into his chair. The same old shameless friend of Thor. But Loki knew that he would be somewhat vulnerable like this. He was taller, and he needed to practice to walk; he seemed somewhat insecure on his feet. Also, elves had different fighting methods and skills... Fandral was trained to fight on the ground, while the Alfheimians fought from the treetops. They were familiar with the heights. That was their primary skill.  
  
"This was Villion Durson, the captain of the third legion of the Alfheimians from the east kingdom."  
"A captain?" Fandral raised his brows. "Well, not bad, not bad indeed. I could be dealing with worse."  
He had noticed Loki’s disapproval of his behaviour, so he wiped that cheerfulness from his face a bit. This meant a lot to him and he always wanted to share his fortune with the world. His misfortune he hid.  
"Look, I am aware that you do not like me and after all that you have been through, I can not say I blame you. But times have changed, people changed, and so have I... do not laugh! I mean it -everything is with purpose and so was your death. And mine as well. I see things now more clearly and I am very aware of my previous wrongs. Thus I shall redeem them."  
"And how do you plan on doing that?”  
  
Fandral licked his lips as he moved closer to the other man, probably trying to look as honest as possible, "I have already told Hel that I shall fight on your side. In fact I will join the Alfheimians army as one of their own and... well, I'll improvise from there."  
Loki rubbed his chin. Something about the way he mentioned Hel was very disturbing. Yes, Hel was strong enough to take care of herself, but it would take only one wrong man to set her on her path of destruction and self-destruction.  
  
"You spoke of Hel with... kindness. What are your genuine thoughts of her?"  
"I am glad you've asked. She and I are more alike than one would think. Our fates were entwined in the most unexpected way, but I could not be more thankful for it. Ever since she was a small child, there was something about her. And now she is a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I understand her and I can not judge her for anything. Believe it or not, my dear friend, but I am also not perfect!” The warrior jested, but Loki’s tone grew darker, "what are you implying?"  
"Hel made me a better man and I gave her something she did not have - hope. For a better future. We compliment each other... What am I trying to say is this - I ask for your blessing, for intend to propose your daughter."

 

\-----------------------------------------------

  
  
As Hel left the tent, she joined the men that cheered and shouted. They were betting on two warriors who were fighting. One was a Jotúun and the other a Muspelheimian. This was a friendly fight, if one could call it as such. They were to fight until one of them fell. This time, death was not an option, for all of them were needed to stand against the Aesir. The Jotúun made an ice sword out of pure air and the fire giant made a fire sword. Every time the two clashed, their weapons produced either water or fog. So they had to fight bare handed - and this was very brutal. They both screamed from wounds made by their opponent. Fenrir was far from her. He was surrounded by his friends from Nifelheim, and she could see that he was taking mental note of they way these men fought. He wanted to learn as much about their moves as possible, and to constantly improve himself. He was young and warm-blooded - when he was a boy it had been a challenge to keep him still and in one place. She smiled gently at those memories and wished to continue her recollection, so she stepped from the crowd, but only to be blocked by Surtr.  
"Let me pass giant!" She never had any sympathy for this beast. She could see through his layers, although it was not difficult; he radiated evil.  
"Not so fast... I wish to speak with my future queen...”  
"What. Are. You. Talking. About?"  
  
\------------------------  
  
The battle horns ripped the air. Odin’s army marched over the field. Everyone on Loki’s side was too distracted by trivialities to see that. Loki s eyes were wide... he was unprepared. He turned to Fandral, "You are to leave now - and I will know if you betray us."  
"I shan't, you can trust me."  
And with that, Loki teleported the elf to the opposite side, amongst the other Alfheimians.  
When he ran, he ran extremely fast and now he was on the very spot where he stood two days ago forming his black armor and helmet with Nifelheim’s ornaments.  
Odin was holding himself with some morbid pride, and Loki could see why - Thor was by his side. Odin made a sign and his men froze at once.  
"Loki - my proposition from the last time no longer stands. Your men shall die, but, since I am merciful I will grant them quick death, if they surrender now!"  
"You are outnumbered father. Stop this madness and surrender!"  
"Hahahahaha! I have just received a letter from the king of Nidavellir. His men are just about to arrive and if your gaze is turned upon the ocean you shall see their ships."  
Everyone did just that and saw he spoke the truth. Thousands of ships would arrive within half an hour. Damn, Loki thought, but on the outside he remained calm. He did it almost mechanically by now. However Odin smiled; he could see Loki s uneasiness.  
"Oh, King Hreidmar also informed me that he killed the giant serpent that disturbed them. The very reason for their delay. You would not know anything about it, would you?"  
Hel almost collapsed at that and Fenrir had to grab her.  
"Jormungandr, my son!"  
Odin grinned.  
"You lie!" Loki was shaken and his hand started to glow. He was about to attack the King.  
"I do not. Where is he then, where is your monstrous son?"  
"I would know if he was dead. Your words mean nothing to me!"  
"As you wish. That will not change the facts." Odin’s tone could not be any colder than this.  
"How did you manage to include Thor?" Loki needed to change the subject, but was interested as well.  
Thor stepped forwards, Mjolnir directed towards Loki. "Do not speak ill of my father, Jotúun!"  
This was not the Thor he knew; this was not his brother. This was Odin s puppet! Loki’s heart sank at the realization. "Damn you Odin for taking Thor!" The younger prince screamed internally.

  
His older half-brother had been the one to protect him when young Loki was attacked by his friends, Thor was there to tell him the stories when Loki would be afraid of lightning, Thor was there to bring the sunshine where Loki was alone and in the mist of his own mind, Thor was there after the affair with Hel... He never looked badly at the dark haired man that everyone despised, no! He was his best friend. Perhaps his only friend, if one did not count Otr. And Frigga was Loki’s mother. Odin knew that Loki’s vulnerability was his family and he had to play his last card...  
"Stop this at once! This is not you brother! Odin has probably put some sort of a spell upon you - for these are not your words!"  
"I am not your brother! I never was!"  
And Thor swung his hammer towards Loki...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes...i know i know...edit will take time.need to rest-this chapter is for all those who had a bad day...just remember-rain can not fall forever...


	34. Long live The King....

  
Loki used his sceptre to avoid the deadly weapon, for it would surely break his bones. Thor gritted his teeth. He swung the hammer anew, this time summoning the electricity - the clouds abruptly came from nowhere and hid one of the suns. Then the thunder and lightning came and entered the hammer. Thor shot the thunder at his non-brother. Loki’s magic was barely deflecting the hits... and there were many of them. The seidr of Mjolnir was perhaps too much even for him and Loki’s force-field met its match. His son, now taking the wolf form again, jumped from the crowd and bit on Thor’s hand: Fenrir did not wish to cause him any severe injury, for he knew what had transpired between him and Odin. But Thor grabbed the boy by the neck and tried to smother him.  
"Get away from me, you beast!" He was stronger than the boy, what was more than obvious. He was the God of Thunder; he had much more experience upon the battlefield and he threw the Lycan across the fields almost effortlessly. Fenrir landed on a few men that fought. When he saw that his son had somewhat recovered his composure, Loki slapped his brother with the end of his spear and Thor returned his attack by slamming Mjolnir into his chest. It hurt like hell and Loki fell in a pool of blood.  
  
Fandral was with the Alfheimians and watched as Loki vanished into the air just to appear behind Thor again. And in the nick of time... surely Thor nearly ripped his skull in half with that last impact.  
"Captain, what do you command?" The voice of an elf warrior came from behind his back.  
"Uh... yes, well... proceed according to plan" Was all he said.  
The elves bowed, said something in a foreign language to the other silver-haired ones and the legion of Alfheimians begun to climb upon the mountain. He could see what were they aiming for – rocks. They were going to push those heavy rocks upon the Muspelheimian giants that were marching in a square formation below. Odin was firing golden rays from Gungnir towards any creature that approached him. Jotúuns threw ice daggers and Nifelheimians were invincible, yet weaker than the rest of the men.  
Another horn was blowing! The dwarfs! They were already joining in the mêlée and events went from disturbing to worse. Fandral had the privilege of seeing Sif and his friends Hogun and Volstagg marching straight to the mouth of Nifelheim itself. Yet he could not let them die - not today.  
He had to think fast. "Lady Sif! Warriors Hogun and Volstagg!" He called out to them.  
Sif was first to turn and signalled the two men to follow her. "Yes? What is it, Lord Villion?"  
  
It was strange how they did not recognize him, even thought they had been so close since the day they had met. He wanted to protect them, but to do this he had to choose the path of lies. He had never used lies upon them. Only on everyone else.  
"I must tell you that I have found out where Loki is hiding the gems that increase his power!"  
Hogun, as always, was rather suspicious. "And how do you know that and why would you tell these things?"  
"I am of Alfheim - our Elvish eyes see further than those of your realms, dear Asgardians and Vanir. Forgive me for being so direct, but I strongly believe that these stones should return to the All-father and I trust only his most loyal men - and shield-maiden."  
Oh, he got Sif with that pretentious respect of all the years she tried to prove herself as equal as her male counterparts. She smiled naively. "Thank you, you are kind Captain Villion. Now, show us the way."  
Fandral took them to a crevice within the mountain, the one Loki used as a passageway. It was a partial lie. Loki did have stones there... once.  
"In here. They are in here.”  
Hogun narrowed his eyes - the Elven captain was acting strangely. Strangely as a captain and strangely as an elf. So, just to be sure, he kept his hand upon his mace. When the three of them entered the crevice, Hogun last, of course, Fandral used his new found strength and pushed a large rock closing them inside, but leaving enough space for the air to enter. They started cursing and trying to break free. Their words were muffled...luckily.

  
He yelled "I trusted you friends, and now I ask you to trust me!"  
Since Volstagg was quite strong, he could push the stone only too easily and Fandral began to panic, holding the stone on his side. Damn the fools! They would open up a gap. Stay in there. Live another day...  
"I'll take it from here."  
Hel came from the opposite direction holding the sword.  
"What do you plan on doing with-that?"  
She joked, but her tone was nothing but cold. ”so your Elvish eyes do not see everything."  
She opened her pouch (which was actually Loki’s pouch) and took one of the stones.  
"Look..." The stone vibrated with some sort of energy and Hel blew its smoke into the direction of the three captives. Soon their protests were replaced by silence.  
"What have you done to my friends, for surely I hope you have not killed them!?"  
"They have fallen asleep. And they will stay in that state for two more days. "  
"Thank you..." He sighed and wiped of the sweat from his forehead. "They will hate me when they find out that they have missed the most important battle of their entire existence, the one they have been trained for... but, nevertheless, I thank you, again."  
"Fandral... they must not know. Who you are now is who you shall stay. The magic that brought you from the blackness into the light is dark and forbidden. And, by the Norns, if someone discovers what it can do... just imagine what would take place if the secret falls into the wrong hands. Your friends shall be grateful... you have my word on that. And they are not lost to you. If they liked your atrocious personality before, they will like it even more now in this new body!"  
He bowed and kissed her hand. "Thank you, my wise and especially kind lady... now let us get back to the field."  
  
\------------------------------------------------------  
  
The sight was even more chaotic than before. Loki’s hand was stretching out into the air as he lifted the golden-haired prince off the ground, saving himself some time to crack the spell that Odin had cast upon him. Thor used this magic bond to send his lightning toward his opponent. Meanwhile, Odin was surrounded by numerous creatures and Surtr approached once more... the dwarves came to bring aid to the Asgardians and so far it was working... there were at least two dwarves to each Jotúun or Nifelheimian.... and they were small and fast and they feared nothing. Their axes had freed a lot of men from their legs and feet. The elves, on the other hand, were swift and had the ability to outrun even the arrows of ice or fire...  
  
"We shall lose" Fandral muttered. Thor freed himself from Loki’s green light and flew straight to him, opposing the layers of Loki s protection. Thor grabbed the smaller man and finally took things into his own hands, leaving his hammer to hang within his reach. He planted a fist straight to Loki s face, which resulted in his nose erupting in a gout of blood. The goal was not just to make him unconsciousness but also to kill the traitor. Loki could fight back, but he would surely destroy Thor and that would be unbearable. Thor’s death would destroy him as well.  
  
Surtr created a huge fiery whip with which he managed to ensnare Odin and drag him closer. Odin spoke words of magic to make the whip disappear but, to his surprise, they did not work.  
Surtr’s laughter was appalling: "You are going to fall All-father. And... I shall take your place! Asgard will be nothing... but ashes and flames!"  
Odin managed to turn Gungnir and pierced it through the beast’s torso, the sharp ending exiting beneath his jaw.  
"In your dreams, monster!"

 

\--------------------------------------

  
The horns played their chilling melody for the third time... a dwarf upon a hill screamed "the wave! The sea shall engulf us all!"  
It was hard to understand what he meant by that, until everyone saw the largest wave in the history of not only Asgard but the whole nine realms approaching. It was as if the branches of Yggdrasil had bent and the tree decided that darkness should rule over its small souls.  
  
The cause of it was Jormungandr. He swam behind it, now creating more waves and sending them to his would-be captors. He laughed as he saw small warriors drowning and vanishing beneath the crystal blue surface. Alfheimians were not known for their swimming abilities. Many Muspelheimians died as well - water was their poison. And of the Jotúuns, those that had the misfortune to find themselves in the water were captured within the ice blocks that their bodies produced by releasing coldness.  
The giant serpent laughed and thus made earthquakes..."Oh, how long have I waited for this day!" he roared.  
The tide waves kept coming and consuming everything and everyone. Jor finally came to the surface. He was spitting poison in his fury and he did not care who died from it... Hel did not care either. He was alive! Her son was alive! He ran over many creatures until he came to face her.  
"The stones, mother! Use the stones! Seal our fates with them. Destroy the enemiessss!"  
  
She understood and she grabbed all of the infinity stones, casting new power upon him and Fenrir, and by doing so, the both of them grew even larger and stronger. She had sent a part of the potent seidr to Loki, who, from a beaten bloody man exchanged places with Thor, now holding him firmly by the head and taking all of his might to destroy Odin’s spell. He was not giong to give up, but Odin separated them, by aiming and hitting his younger son. Loki fell again, but this time Odin’s Gungnir - crafted by the wise dwarves themselves - was placed on his forehead. Loki could not act since the magic of it was draining his life-force.  
  
Then something completely unexpected occurred - Jormungandr swallowed Odin! Thor immediately found himself upon Jormungandr’s belly and pierced through the thick skin by using Mjolnir. The energy of it started expanding the wound until the hole was large enough for the King to be rescued. But it was also large enough to bring death upon the serpent, for there was too much blood lost and there was no healing skill to save him. After landing and crushing those beneath him, his body was still twitching and tail shaking, taking those in its path to their doom.  
His brother’s death brought the purest rage from young Fenrir. He was now as large as Jor and his full attention was directed to his brother’s murderer.  
  
Thor struggled, but the enormous hand grabbed him in a firm grip, breaking all of his bones and spear-like nails tore his flesh and skin. Odin, in attempt to save his firstborn fired Gungnir one last time. Fenrir had forgotten about him. Odin, yes. Odin was to blame for this. He tossed Thor’s body aside. And the last thing Odin saw was his end.

 

\-------------------------------------------

One sun... only one sun was gracing the sky that day... the temperature had rapidly fallen. For in his rage and sorrow, the wolf Fenrir had eaten one of them, one of the suns... the Asgardian scattered when they saw that, leaving their weapons, as they felt fear, surprise and shock overtake them. They were now an easy prey for the others.  
Hel lay upon Jormungandr’s lifeless body. She could try to return his soul, yes, but he would not want that. He, above all, desired freedom and with his stature he could have never had it. He would be eternally feared, mocked or attacked and he would forever suffer alone. The Norns granted him his wish. He had sacrificed himself for the balance of Yggdrasil and even more for them... after coming to his full conclusions and after he accepted this horrendous grief, Loki used his magic to bind Odin to the leafless tree. Odin was barely breathing - he was as good as dead, but he would not go peacefully. He had given none of that to Jormungandr or the rest of them. Loki summoned the crows... hundreds of them...  
His half brother - the Jotúun King, Helblindi joined him as he watched the All-father being ripped apart alive.  
"So this is how the God dies..." The Jotúun snarled, his red ruby eyes glowed darkly and his blue body filled with pride.  
"No! This is how the self-proclaimed ‘God’ dies..."  
  
Loki turned on his heels... victory now meant nothing. Thor had fallen... his beloved brother. He kneeled and looked into the sad blue eyes, only to close them with one gentle movement. His gaze met Hel’s... she appeared to be a statue, not moving at all. Only traces of her tears proved that she was not as such. And Jormungandr... how much time had he spent with his son? This was one more heavy burden for his soul to carry. Helblindi was standing beside his smaller brother, and Loki had not heard him approaching. He had Gungnir in his hands - the all-powerful golden spear of Odin: “Take it, Loki. It is yours. You have earned it."  
Loki was numb and he just took what was offered, not realizing the meaning of it, nor did he care about the symbolism. But the moment he took it he could hear his people cheering. “The King is dead! Long live the King!"

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

  
The Poetic Edda contains various references to Ragnarök:  
  
English:  
It sates itself on the life-blood  
of fated men,  
paints red the powers' homes  
with crimson gore.  
Black become the sun's beams  
in the summers that follow,  
weathers all treacherous.  
Do you still seek to know? And what  
Old Norse:   
Fylliz fiǫrvi   
  
feigra manna,  
rýðr ragna siǫt  
rauðom dreyra.  
Svǫrt verða sólskin  
of sumor eptir,  
veðr ǫll válynd  
Vitoð ér enn, eða hvat  
\-------------------  
Brothers will fightand kill each other,  
sisters' childrenwill defile kinship  
.It is harsh in the world,  
whoredom  
rife—an axe age,  
a sword age—shields  
are riven—a wind age,  
a wolf age—before  
the world goes headlong.No man will  
have  
mercy on another.  
  
Brœðr muno  
beriazok at bǫnom  
verða[z]muno systrungarsifiom  
spilla.Hart er í heimi,  
hórdómr mikill—skeggǫld,  
skálmǫld—skildir ro klofnir—vindǫld,  
vargǫld—áðr verǫld steypiz.  
Mun engi maðrǫðrom  
þyrma  
\----------  
Earth shall be  
rivenand the over-heaven.  
arð skal rifna ok upphiminn

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much left,now is there...Jesus if i dont sold this stuff...gaah...n i do know it is not that good at all...but all the time,the pressure...gaaaah ....any suggests how this should end...i mean ya know...i would still like to hear a word from u guys...


	35. Unfortunate Lovers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning...a cheesy chapter...and only one or two to go...  
> p.s.-are those gifs moving?if they are...well i should have put some sooner then...

  
For the first time in all known history a non-Asgardian was sitting upon the throne of all the Nine. A king of Jotúun heritage. In fact, the raven-haired sorcerer called himself the king of both Asgard and Jotúunheimr, for the frost giants stood by him and approved of him as ruler. Of course the Aesir, Alfheimians and dwarves shared no enthusiasm but since they were defeated, they had no word in this. Their destiny was in his hands. The age of gods was over and Yggdrasil had changed drastically. The realms of Nidavellir and Alfheim were closer to Midgard now than ever before. Many legends of that time indeed spoke of creatures such as elves and dwarfs. The fire world, Muspelheimr sank to the lowest level. It is no wonder that the stories described the world below as the place of monsters and fire. Since the language of Muspelheimians was unknown to these short-lived humans, those of the spirit world, Nifelheimians told them about the queen Hel, so humans concluded that the both worlds were actually one, and they called Muspelheimr ‘Hell’. That was offensive, but Loki had no time to deal with these mortals. Midgard was in the centre of the tree and the influence of other realms could not be avoided... no wonder that in the dark ages the humans feared many things. They became extremely superficial. They even declared war against anything that seemed even remotely unnatural to them and their stoic society. One such declaration led to The Inquisition.  
  
Frigga was called the goddess, mother earth... for her seidr gave them food, water, and her spells were far above the magic their druids or pagans used. Those of the old beliefs accepted her as their protector and prayed to her regardless of the new laws. Loki’s son Sleipnir found himself in the poems and tales of humans as well. His offspring were born with horns and the humans called them unicorns. Loki visited him few times. He was unharmed, safe... Frigga’s eye was upon him and she? Well, she was hidden in the land far beyond the reach of ones eye. No one really saw her, but they sensed her presence. Her love for these weak beings was endless and she thought of mortals to be her children.  
  
\------------------------------------------  
  
Loki’s nails dug into the fine wood of the throne. His sharp gaze was directed to the ornamented doors and to the creatures who were about to come in. The doors were so large that even the great Surtr could enter. He had not forgotten his part of the bargain. Despite the tales that the fire giants were unbeatable, Ragnarök had proved them otherwise. So many had vanished into the sea, or by the hand of Odin and Thor. Thor... instead of Thor, Helblindi was standing to one side of the throne, next to Loki. That was an outrage for many Aesir. It was one more reason for them to avoid the new king. Hel was fortunately in Nifelheim. After Jor’s death, she locked herself in the castle and Fenrir had accompanied her. Fandral, still pretending to be Villion, had decided to stay at court and not to "return" to Alfheim. He resigned, he said, the war had affected him and he had started drinking. That was more than enough for the elves to bother him no more. Yes he drank a lot, which was strange for an elf, but not for Fandral. One night, while pouring himself yet another goblet, he spoke of his marriage proposal to the queen of the dead. And furthermore that she had accepted it. The news travelled fast and Surtr had little patience for gossips.  
  
He was not one to be outplayed and Loki expected him sooner or later. Preferably later, but now here he was. This giant beast stared at Loki with his yellow eyes, bowing, only out of some kind of habit; not out of respect of any kind. Would what Loki was about to do going to bring war upon Asgard again? Such a pity... peace was so refreshing.  
  
"I have come to claim what is mine, King Loki.”  
Loki waved his hand and all guards and servants immediately left the hall. Helblindi gave Loki a long meaningful look, knowing what was going to happen.  
  
"You desire Hel’s hand in marriage..."  
"Yes! Just as we agreed...”  
"...as we agreed...”. Loki repeated, now slowly circling around Surtr. He made a movement and with a flash of light there was an elongated object wrapped in a cloth which he presented to the giant. The beast snarled as he removed the cloth only to see a skeleton arm.  
  
"What is this, mage?!"  
  
"I did not agree to give you my daughter. As I recall, I only said her hand. Well, I am giving you more than just the hand... you will get the whole arm. You should be thankful!”  
  
"You lied! Silver-tongue! Honour our bargain or this means war!"  
  
Loki was unusually calm and his tone was bitter-sweet with a hint of sarcasm. "Oh, I have no doubts about that! There would be war even if I gave you my daughter. I know your secrets Surtr. - I heard you when you fought Odin. You desire my throne! You crave it!"  
  
Anger was boiling up inside Surtr, who was now forming a fire ball...  
  
"What is stopping me from taking the throne right now little man...?"  
"Only this!" Loki snatched the arm back and chanted words of dark magic. Black smoke issued from the object. Surtr tried to fight it, but the smoke entered through his skin, causing the giant’s body to twist a few times in an unnatural way, before he connected with the marble floor. The smoke came back out the same way it entered, but this time it carried Surtr’s soul. It was almost as black as the smoke. When the smoke vanished, the soul descended - down through the floor. Loki assumed that it did not stop there; for it did not even try to reach for the stars. It took the opposite direction.  
  
\------------------------------------  
  
What a surprise this was, or better yet it was something to be expected from this new ruler of theirs. Already proclaiming war on the Muspelheimians, since their "diplomat" had tried to attack him? No one believed that. The Aesir found Jotúuns to be evil, bloodthirsty creatures always finding an excuse to start a new battle. They protested against Loki’s judgement, but despised Helblindi as a person and his adviser. It was obvious whose decision this really was. Loki wanted to prove himself to be as mighty as Odin had been, but people saw him only as Helblindi’s toy. Given as it may be, the men had to get on their horses and march once more to the foreign lands. Fandral was, however, given permission to stay, although his friends were on their way to Muspelheimr along with Loki and his army. Sif, Hogun and Volstagg, had indeed accepted the elf as a part of their little group. They looked at him with nostalgia, for he reminded them of their Fandral, only too much. A sentiment, but a positive sentiment. Those that were left behind watched the troops from the balcony. Women were waving, throwing flowers and handkerchiefs and the men that stayed were mostly jealous for not being able to participate, but they were still suffering wounds from the last battle. In the sea of colourful dresses and sad eyes, Fandral was instinctively attracted to one particular blonde lady.  
  
It was Loki s mistress, Valera. She was a half-Alfheimian and thus was shorter than he. He had never paid much attention to her before, for he was usually occupied with more daring ladies. But now, there was something deep and profound in her dreamy eyes as her gaze followed Loki disappearing behind the horizon. It intrigued him in ways he could not comprehend.  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
With Loki and Hel far away, this unlikely pair had become close. It started rather innocently, as coincidental acquaintances; at least, as coincidental as it could be with Fandral involved. He had been serious when he proposed to the black-haired daughter of the king; he and Hel were carved out of the same stone and she attracted him in all the ways a man could be attracted to a woman. He respected her, too. But he did not love her. He did not feel the bond with her of which some happy couples spoke. He never really understood it, not until now.  
Valera was shy, graceful and honest in her modesty. He could see what Loki valued in this delicate flower. Fandral did not wish to jeopardise his progression since he had returned from the dead. And any attempt to seduce this girl would do just that. Or not... but he found he was not the one to start something between them. For she, after at first distancing herself, started to return the gazes. Fandral fought with himself against these feelings. This so-called ‘love’. Oh, he had loved so many, but no one like this... Valera was the very essence of goodness, and he surprised himself when he realized that he would want to grow old together with her.  
  
Valera had long awaited Loki to kneel and ask her for her hand in marriage. He always avoided the subject, giving excuse after excuse: there is no time, Fenrir is too young, Hel is in trouble, the war... one after another. The Elven maiden had been patient; Loki had many things on his mind, but time was passing and she dreamed of having her own family. In her house in the woods among the forest animals, far from the stone walls of Asgard. But if Loki had only asked her, for him, she would stay. He did not.  
  
Villion was everything a gentleman of his kind was not supposed to be. Sometimes he appeared to have no manners at all. He was direct, he made strange jokes, and he smiled a lot. She slowly fell in love with his smile. Unlike the young king who smiled only when he concocted something wicked, the Elf captain was an eternal optimist. She liked that – it was something she felt she needed. She needed hope. She had never thought of herself as one to be unfaithful, but she was captivated by this man. There had been no word from Loki for months. Out of sadness, despair and desire for comfort and warmth she came to Fandral’s room one night. Her fear that she felt something more for him was, unfortunately, confirmed. One night turned to two, then three. At first, the lovers were careful, avoiding speaking to each other in public or to be seen together at all, but soon they became careless and the servants noticed, and then the guards... and soon the whole court had something to entertain them.  
\-----------------------------------  
  
Muspelheimr had fallen. After six long months the fire giants had surrendered. Half of their world now lay beneath the ice and snow as Jotúuns settled the old score with them, thanks to Loki. He spared the rest of them, but under the condition that they were not to leave heir land without his permission. So, another war was over and Loki’s power over others was finally complete. Helblindi was to return to Jotúunheimr and to take Loki’s place in his absence. And Loki wanted only to return to Asgard.  
  
. ------------------------------------  
  
In the era of Odin, the news of victory travelled faster than the warriors, but Loki had ended this tradition. A glorious return to the city, endless feasts and ceremonies… and for what? Glorifying the death and all the gold spent in vain. No, he wanted a peaceful return. Those who were in need of a ceremony were welcome to do this at their own expense. Asgard had not yet recovered, and Loki thought himself not to be a cheapskate; merely tactful. The question was; how many agreed with him? Certainly not the weary warriors accustomed to celebrations.  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The servants became nervous as their lord appeared so unexpectedly. He would surely demand a bath, food for him and his men... so they had to work fast. And his chambers... he would require the scent of herbal candles and to sink into the silk of the inviting bed. There was no need to rush and sign all the diplomacy papers... for now he was too sleepy. He had not seen Valera, though.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Days slowly passed by and after attending to all his duties, he did seek the attention of his lady. Valera had greeted him with politeness and sincere happiness, but her tenderness was lacking. She spoke little and let him do all the talking instead. She listened the stories of the fire giants and how they were conquered with great interest, yet something was amiss.

  
It was as if she was mad at him for something. The war, he thought... she was exhausted from this, just as he was. It was understandable. Well, no more of that, not for a long time, he gave her his word. Maybe it was time for him to settle down with his beloved. So that night he kneeled and finally proposed to her and truth be told, he had hoped for a slightly better reaction than her just staring at him with a dull expression. She was surprised, not expecting this at all. And, oh, how right he was.  
  
The wedding was to be within a month and Valera sneaked out from Loki’s chambers during the early morning and went to the same balcony where her and Villion’s eyes met for the first time. The weather was colder than before the battle of the seven armies, so she covered herself with a woollen shawl. To protect her from the coldness and from... sorrows. What was wrong with her? She was to be a queen, yet she could only think of her lover.  
  
A single tear fell from her rosy cheek as she watched the one sun inflaming the skies...  
  
"Oh, Norns forgive me... Villion I love you ..."  
  
"I know, my darling.” A smooth voice came from behind and strong hands slowly turned her around so she could meet his pale blue eyes. The elf gently removed curly locks from her face: "You do not have to marry him..."  
  
"But... but he is the king... Who knows how he would react if he finds out! We must stop seeing each other. It is too painful. It is not right or fair Villion, not to him or us..."  
  
"So, you do not love him; you only fear him."  
  
She wiped another tear. "No, it is not like that. I love him, just... not as much as I love you. He has my deepest admiration and he is a righteous king."  
  
His eyes ran over her face before he spoke. "A king? A king, you say, hmmm... so you would exchange something deep and pure for a title?"  
  
She was quiet for a while. "Never, my darling, but... you must understand. He has brought peace upon all of us. Asgard shall be even more powerful than it was with the All-father, and all because of him. I gave him my word. I can not betray him... I owe him that much. We all do...”  
  
Fandral took few deep breaths before facing her again.  
  
"If you change your mind, I shall be there for you, Valera, for nothing shall stop me from seeing you."  
  
She said nothing, she could not... she only passionately joined their lips, and Fandral returned equally. They looked toward the columns as they heard someone clapping hands.  
  
It was Loki.  
  
"What an endearing sight!"

 


	36. Promising Queen...

He did not know anyone who had worse luck than him. Death, a child with his daughter, murders and so on and so on. And, as if that had not been bad enough, one of those rare people he still trusted had betrayed him without even blinking.  
  
He had been a naïve fool to not expect this to happen. The truth was he had kept many things to himself. He had never told her he was Fenrir’s true father; he had just said that his forsaken daughter had problems which he wanted to help to solve and he had left. He had to take care of a small boy who caused problems in his never ending playfulness... and he would be gone for long periods of time. He was always everywhere and yet he was nowhere. He was bound to people, not places...  
  
Loki sighed and took a sip of strong crimson liquid, which originated from Muspelheimr, of all places. They had wine and yet they had no water; a truly miraculous and underestimated, but diabolical place. And even the great fire giants were under his dominion... His power was vast... he had achieved more than both Odin and Bor had during their time, yet he could not have Valera. His hopes of starting anew and escaping his nightmares were now thrown into the air. It seemed that it was impossible for him to lead a normal existence. Why was it so? Was the problem lying in him or was he merely a victim of external influences? In his case, it had mostly been caused by his enemies. Men... men of all sorts, especially those who should have been the closest to him.  
  
Loki laughed to himself. No matter what form Fandral was in, he simply bewitched everyone around him. It had not taken long before he restored his old friendships and Loki wondered how long it had taken for him to steal the Elven maiden as well. Loki resolved not harm her... he loved her in his own way... but harming the former Asgardian warrior was another thing entirely. There had been little enough that had bound him to this place. Frigga, Thor and Valera. And now there was only his duties. His damn duties... he was on top and alone... The all-powerful king being destroyed by the thing he could not outrun - misery.  
  
Well, he may be a pathetic king, but he was a king nevertheless. He had seen them on that balcony a month ago. Ever since he arrived from the Muspelheimr war he could sense the way servants looked at him with pity, and the courtiers with some strange amusement. They thirsted for scandals. And the blonde lady avoided his gaze as often as she could. For he was only too perceptive and could easily read her. Her thoughts were elsewhere... and she had to hide them. Loki could not fail to notice the way she would disappear from time to time, and when she returned he would measure every movement, every word or tone. The pressure upon her grew and her ground was unstable. For the first time ever she feared Loki.  
  
He took another sip... the wine burned his throat. Its ingredients could drive weaker ones into insanity. There were many who drank it to test their manhood. Another form of compensation for the true values that were lacking. What good is bravery when one is a simpleton? Many Asgardians were and now he could not deny that he shared that quality with them.  
  
He threw the goblet against the wall and stormed out. He would visit the one who would take his happiness from him…  
  
Fandral was chained in a kneeling position, with his back exposed and arms stretched. He already wore numerous signs of whipping. He had spat blood few times, but this body possessed Elven magic and it was healing itself; not as fast as an Aesir body, but he would survive. For now...  
  
"So... Lord Dorson, how do you like your new chambers, hmmm?"  
Fandral spat some more blood and forced a smile; "Oh, they are quite comfortable, despite a few rats here and there. But one could get used to it."  
"Unfortunately, you will not have that luxury, elf, for you must have heard that tomorrow is your trial, yes?"  
"Your first trial as a king. My, my... I am flattered to be your first case, then."

  
Loki’s face reddened and he slapped the silver-haired man, not restraining his strength.  
  
"How dare you!? You could have anyone, and you chose to steal her!"  
  
Fandral rubbed his jaw onto his shoulder, for he could not do it any differently and looked up at his rival.  
  
"I stole nothing. She has chosen me, Loki...”  
  
Another slap. "You shall address me properly, prisoner! I am your king!"  
  
"My apologies, majesty." Fandral gritted his teeth.  
  
"I thought I knew her, and yet it seems that the two of you are perfect for each other - a man whore and a slut. Sadly, she shall not enjoy gazing at your form much longer." And with fake satisfaction plastered on his face, Loki turned and left, slamming the doors behind him.  
  
\------------------------------------  
  
The king could not even smell the dinner; much less eat it, even the fruits from Alfheim he enjoyed so much. Their taste brought upon him memories of his childhood when he and Thor ate them for the very first time in the gardens of the palace. Frigga was the one to acquaint the boys with something as divine as this; the fruits from Alfheim... he pushed the tray away and instead he poured himself some more of that warm Muspelheimian wine, which only affected him by adding to his anger. The fire giants drank it before battle. It made them stronger and fearless, they said. The wine itself was a rarity... made of fire and pure magic. There were only few hundred bottles out there, and after conquering them, Loki took at least half.  
  
There was a short knock on the door, and a servant entered. He knew that Loki was in a foul mood... well the whole of Asgard knew, so he tried to be as quick as possible: “My lord... "  
  
Loki’s tone was very deep and his eyes threw daggers. "What? I told you I am not to be disturbed!"  
  
"Deepest apologies sire, but Lady Valera is insisting upon seeing you."  
  
Valera? This was unexpected. So she dared to show her face after all. It was obvious why she wanted to see Loki. And he wanted to see her crawl and beg for mercy for her lover s life.  
  
"Let her in." The king murmured and turned towards the windows. It was night already. Ever since Fenrir had eaten the sun the days were shorter. The second the servant exited, Valera threw herself on the floor. He could hear her weeping, but he said nothing; he didn't even blink. He had hoped he would enjoy her misery, but he could not even do that. In some way he felt pity. She had ruined every prospect for a better future.  
  
"My king,” She started. How strange it was to hear her call him that. It only reminded him of her misdeeds.  
  
"Let me guess, you have decided to swallow the last bit of your pride, now kneeling before me and hoping that I shall spare Fa...Vilion, isn't that so?"  
  
She lowered her head.  
  
"Ye...yes my lord.”  
  
He turned then half way towards her. "I was to make you my queen, yet you have stabbed me in the back. I gave you my trust, shared with you my secrets. So... give me one, just one reason to spare his pathetic life. Only one. Well?! "  
  
"I...I am with child, my sire."  
  
The way his eyes widened, made her correct herself...  
  
"With him my lord, the child is his.”  
  
Loki turned his back to her once more to hide the emotions now breaking through. "Are you positively sure it is his?"  
  
"Yes" She whispered.  
  
Loki’s children were his weakness and she was aware that declaring the child as Vilion’s could mean that either Loki would kill them both or his heart would soften.  
  
The child was actually Loki’s, but she was not going to reveal this, for she knew that her life with the king would not be as it could have been once. Her unfaithfulness he would never forget, or forgive. She would probably end up as his slave and the child would be taken away from her.

  
"And you would tell me this - when? After the wedding?"  
"I have just found out, the healer Eir has confirmed it. I beg you... the child needs a father and I know that Vilion would be a good, kind father.”  
Loki clenched his fists. That plague of a man had already impregnated too many women through all the realms. As if he possessed a seidr of some sort. So many women had fallen to his charm. And Valera had proved herself to be no better.  
  
"Do you love him?"  
  
Silence...  
  
"Do you?!"  
  
"Yes! Yes I do."  
  
Now he turned to her. "Get out of my sight, you wench!"   
  
He never called her that. He had never been cruel to her, so naturally there was a fear present... she quickly bowed and ran. Loki had fears of his own. She loved Fandral and Loki had wanted to ask her did she love him. Once, perhaps... but he feared the answer would no longer be in his favour.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------  
  
Although he had decided upon Fandral s fate, and the brief speech with Valera only confirmed the way he should proceed, his own fate was yet a mystery to him. Valera had been a sanctuary he could run to, and now she had left him to deal with his inner ugliness alone.   
  
He kept this to himself; he was disgusted by what he really wished for. Yes, it was a true love, amongst all things, but many of those things were there to divert him. This bond was a rare thing, and deeply respected among the Aesir. Two souls made for each other. Yes there were cases when the bodies of the carriers of the souls were of different age, species or the same sex. But no one spoke of the case where they were related by blood. Hel and he were... and they were bonded. Oh, the Norns must have been bored that day and decided to destroy someone’s life. And who did they choose but him. For incest was highly punishable in Asgard through all the centuries. Yet, since the king was the one to set the laws he could change that, could he not? Only in this case.   
  
He stared at the ceiling. Dreams would not come... his stomach turned by the possibilities... thoughts of marrying someone. Not Valera, or any noble maiden, but someone else.  
  
Her.  
  
His own...  
  
   
  
"Damn!" He bit his fist and rushed to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water. No! He would die as a bitter old man, probably alone, for he was clearly not to be loved by any woman, it appeared. Only Valera could stand him... and now... hah! He would become as Odin... and maybe, no indeed, that is far more honourable than being what they all say he is - a monster.  
  
\-------------------------------  
  
   
  
The trial.  
All the courtiers were gathered up at the great hall and the king was sitting upon the throne. What an interesting day for them and a rough one for Loki. Fandral was in chains, but had a silk white shirt to cover his wounds. Loki’s orders. Valera was holding onto one of her maids, her gaze never leaving the elf. Loki noticed from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Vilion Durson, the captain of an Alfheimian legion, you are accused of treason against the king. What say you?"  
"I am guilty, my lord" People were shocked... he had just sentenced himself to death. Valera fell unconscious, due to the whole situation and the state she was in. Her maids dragged her out for some air.  
"My lord if, I may... if I was to do this all over again, I would! I did not wish to bring any shame upon you, your majesty, but one could not protest against his heart. If it is your wish, I will die... but I will not die in vain. I have loved and I am not ashamed of it.”  
The look he cast towards Loki and his tone was meaningful - only Loki could understand that. An indirect message was there, which only the two of them comprehended. Others were blind and deaf to it...thankfully.

  
"So, your wish is to die...Captain?"  
"I have nothing to lose and I have gained everything. If I die, I will die as fortunate man." And he smirked! That treacherous, two-faced bastard Fandral. Loki finally realized what it was about him that everyone loved so much - he simply did not care. Fandral lived to the fullest and gave others hope that they could do the same. Fandral was honest, optimistic, and adventurous, while Loki was destroyed, tortured and always overly careful, and to the others - sinister. Constantly doubting.... There was a long, long pause... everyone was expecting the worst and some women cried. By the Norns! They found him attractive even as an elf. Or they believed in this romantic tale where a light knight is to save a maiden from a Jotúun beast. Loki was lost in his thoughts... For one of Thor’s closest friends, this imbecile was quite intelligent... in some ways almost as he was.  
  
"Very well, here is my verdict...you, Vilion Durson, are to be banished from Asgard and you are to take your whore along with you.”  
  
Oh, Fandral could kill Loki for calling her as such, but he remained calm, not wishing to test Loki’s temper. He had expected to be beheaded and this was only too good to be true.  
"You are to come back only in the case of war, when your skills as a commandant are required. Is that understood?"  
"Yes, my... king"  
"You have one hour to leave for Alfheim... and return to your people." Loki indeed was a sarcastic and bitter bastard. Fandral bowed... hopefully they would never see each other again.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
  
That had been two months ago and since then all had been quiet. The gossip was unavoidable... The whispers and pointing fingers. He was now proclaimed to be an unworthy king. Unworthy of Odin. His decision of sparing his fiancé’s lover was believed to be the decision of a weak king. But if he had killed the elf, he would only have made Fandral a martyr. There was no satisfying the Asgardians. He would have to earn their trust or they would have to fear him. But they dared not confront him. Loki wanted his peace and now, he finally got it. Be careful what you wish for, they say...true...true, indeed.  
  
After the trial Hel and Fenrir returned to the court. The young man had joined the warriors three by taking Fandral’s and later on, Vilion’s place, and to his surprise, he was well accepted by the others. They shared similar interests. Hel was rather quiet, still mourning her son, Jormungandr, but both she and Loki needed the company of someone who would not judge them. Their similarity had proven to be an advantage... this time. Although they exchanged words rarely, they let their bond speak for them.  
  
One day as they sat on the floor of his room and watched the clouds through the large window, Hel asked Loki: “Do you still think of her?"  
  
He was startled by that, coming practically out of nowhere. "No."  
  
...yes...in some way...  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
"Do you wish to marry again?"  
"I... I don't know... would that bother you?" He jested, sensing that it would, but he would answer to no one. He was a grown man and a king and he could do as he pleased. Instead he was hiding... but he was not one to admit that.  
  
"No.” She said coldly.   
"Even if it did, I can assure you my dear that I shall probably end up alone."  
"That is unlikely, for many women are waiting in line to be the new queen."  
"Oh and you know of them... personally... someone who would care for me and not the status itself?"  
  
She remained quiet and slowly looked deep into his eyes... and he did into hers... their souls connecting once more. Hel did not think as she acted by reaching out to him. He pulled back... she quickly turned her head and stood up.

  
"Forgive me! I... I am to return where I belong. Do not bother to call for me, unless something is truly relevant."  
  
"Why? Why do you persist on something so ungodly, Hel?"  
  
His voice came from behind the bed. He knew damn well why she did it, but he wanted her to say. He was a coward and his conscience and ethics and traditions and morals and a host of other things stopped him from taking what he wanted. What he needed.  
  
He was powerful and he could do anything without anyone protesting publicly, but he alone could not do this one thing.  
  
Hel smiled sadly, "I will say this one last time... I love you. More than I ever will anyone else. This is my curse. I am aware that I shall never find anyone to take your place in my heart. But you have made your choice... and perhaps it is the right one. I am sorry for being such an abomination and a shameless witch as they all call me. I wish you all the happiness in the world. This is farewell, then."  
  
She was about to leave when he stood and asked: "Hel...?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Tell me what you want... "  
  
"What does it matter?!"  
  
“It does! Now, please tell me...I need to hear it.”  
  
"You... I want you."  
  
He could feel both his heart filing up with endless pain, but his soul with joy... it tore him apart.  
  
"And you father, what do you want?"  
  
Was there any hope, or was this just another aching conversation where Loki fought his demons? She was too tired for going through that again.  
  
"By the Norns... what have you done to me...?"  
  
He hid his face under his hands.  
  
"I love you... in the most blasphemic kind of way. My destiny was always to have not what I desired... and I always knew... that I desired you."  
  
Immediately she ran to his embrace, tears beginning to show...  
  
"Father...”  
  
"Hel, please promise me one thing.”  
  
"Anything.”  
  
Loki ran his fingers through her hair, "That you shall never call me that again…”  
  
"I promise...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok...will there be a continuation it depends on u guys...


	37. One Choice...

The story Fandral told the light elves was ridiculously transparent, yet they all accepted it as the best explanation for his significant change... that he was hit in the head during Ragnarök and had forgotten all there was to know, even his own maternal Elvish language... Although, he was rewarded with the highest honours for saving his people and warriors three and for the bravery upon the field (plus angering the unloved new king, which was left to hang in the air unspoken) Despite being offered a higher position within his legion, they glanced at him with pity... he did not know how to act properly, how to talk, nor even how to walk. To them he almost seemed vulgar, and Aesir-like. Elves spent their whole life time learning to attract as little attention as possible; to be modest, quiet, to talk on a rare occasions. In the now blue eyes of the new admiral, they were incredibly boring and artificial. All the mannerisms seemed to accentuate how superior they believed themselves to be in comparison to other species. Valera was not a full-blooded elf and he was grateful for that. And the last owner of this body was well situated, so he had a fine place to call home. And he was grateful for that as well.  
Vilion’s home in Alfheim was quite different from what Hel had back in Asgard. The walls here were thin; all of them in pastel and soft tones and it seemed that every room competed with the others as to which one had more flowers and plants in it. It was a prestige, nonetheless. Blue and silver were the dominant colours, in total opposition to strong ones like golden, yellow and red, which were almost a trade mark of the most advanced realm. The colours represented the strength of the two suns that blessed the golden city. He could imagine Loki redesigning the palace in black and green and the city being blessed by one sun and one moon. He shivered at the thought of how sad it was to be an Asgardian in the era of a Jotúun king.  
  
He had been born under lucky stars, for the days in Alfheim were warm, but not insufferable. There were only two seasons, spring and autumn. There was only one balcony in this luxurious wooden house, but it surrounded it completely. To say that it was large would be an understatement. The elves were as one with nature and the closer they were to it, the better they felt. Fandral was pacing in and out, out to his rich balcony, and back inside where all the furniture was carved of the finest wood. Some of the fabrics were even made out of petals.  
  
He had not even been as nervous during the war as he was now. Here he was in a foreign land, in a body of another, falling apart. Oh, if he only had his moustache or goatee to fiddle with, to occupy himself with at least something to do, but apparently the Alfheimians had no facial hair except eyebrows and long eyelashes. It was no wonder that Asgardians thought of them as less manly than they. The ideal Asgardian man had to be tall, strong, broad shouldered and above all honourable. And as a true Asgardian man, he was completely bewildered when it came to child birth, or babies.  
  
Yet today he was to become a father. Some women had sworn that they had his sons and daughters, yet he did not believe them or care to believe them. But with Valera it was different. The love he already had for this child was beyond anything he could imagine. And today he feared for Valera’s and their child's well-being, for he had heard the baby’s cry an hour ago, and the woman delivering them had forbidden him from entering the room. He would do anything to ensure their safety, yet his hands were tied. Yes, men were useless sometimes... he could only wait.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------  
The birth itself was agonizing for the half-elvish maiden. The child was bigger than she had expected, than anyone had expected. The contractions lasted for hours and she even passed out few times from the pain. When she finally came to, she was covered in sweat, blood and tears.  
  
Her mother was holding a child. It was covered up in the blanket made out of rose cotton. The plant was indigenous to this realm and was highly prized as making the softest material.  
Valera’s voice was hoarse and broken; she was so drained, she had not a single ounce of energy.  
"Mother, let me see my child...”  
  
Adyssa was a traditional Elven lady. She was cold and her emotions were fenced within walls of iron, sharing neither sympathy nor empathy with anyone.  
  
"You will not like what there is to see, daughter."  
Valera struggled to bring herself up to the sitting position; her nightgown falling from her shoulder.  
"What do you mean?! Please, give me my baby..."  
She reached her arms to take the bundle, almost losing balance as her mother relinquished the baby to her. The child was indeed heavy, and Valera had problems holding it, but she could not wait any more. She was a mother herself now, and she wanted to see this little miracle.  
  
When she removed the blanket to take the first look at the baby’s soft cheeks and big eyes, she froze. The child’s eyes were red!  
  
It was a boy with a mouth already full of sharp teeth and a head of nocturnally black hair.  
  
"Do not scream" Her mother warned her, eying her like a snake, "Your husband must not know.”  
  
The boy reacted to the negative vibrations the older woman sent and his eyes shifted to emerald ones, along with his teeth that now seemed more normal. Valera breathed out; at least he would not permanently look like a Jotúun.  
  
"Norns...what shall I do?"  
"Here, let me take him away." Her mother practically grabbed the child and placed him in a crib, and if she had done it any faster, she would certainly have harmed him.  
The blond young woman was shaking, holding her stomach, then her chest, then pulling her hair and the feeling of suffocation was overwhelming. She did not expect the boy to look so much like Loki.   
  
She went to an Elven sorceress who lived deep in the woods because her mother forced her to seek her out. She gave her a potion that was to ensure that the child appeared to be of Alfheimian origin, with long straight silver hair and crystal blue eyes.  
  
This was karma then, she thought. Her strict mother gave her some strong tea and Valera momentarily sank into the pillows, her strength betraying her.  
Adyssa had placed an antique chair near her daughter’s bed and sat, her back straight, her chin lifted and eyes accusing.  
  
"We don't have much time, so you do need to listen to me Valera. You have very few choices and whatever you are to chose, we must act upon it quickly. First, you can show the boy to Vilion and expect that he either leaves you, or raises the boy as his own. The last option is unlikely, for his looks are completely different to his. You can not truly expect someone of such a reputation as his to take this light-heartedly. He will throw you out of the house along with the boy... and me. And even if he swallowed his pride and accepted the son of a frost giant, he would not care for him. The boy would be mocked and treated horribly by many.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at her daughter, “And all because his mother was a whore!"

  
Even though Valera had life long experience of her mother’s criticism, her poisonous words shook her to the core. When Adyssa met her Aesir father, the event was planned in advance. To marry outside her own class was her primary and only goal at the time... and she had succeeded it effortlessly. She always got what she wanted, stepping on everyone and anything that she thought stood in her way. But her ambitions only grew. She had sent Valera to Asgard for the same purpose; to capture the eyes of Prince Thor, heir to the throne. Valera, however, knew who was in his heart - the shield-maiden Sif, with whom he shared every interest. The elf maiden was too well mannered, too quiet, too feminine and far more intelligent than he. All those qualities Loki found enchanting. Adyssa did not hide her displeasure from her disappointing daughter, but even she had to acknowledge that Loki was a prince and he would inherit immense wealth and status. She would forgive Valera for choosing the second best. Valera at first was, as many others, afraid of the dark prince, but once he let her know the man behind the many masks he wore, she fell in love. Or she convinced herself that was so, but all that went into the air when she met Vilion. He was the true master of her heart and to look at another was unimaginable.  
  
The consequences of her unfaithfulness were to be disastrous, and with the war just ended Loki was another man - somewhat dangerous and violent. Not to her, but she kept quiet. Oh, if only she had escaped before this.  
Adyssa slightly smirked as she saw Valera’s agony and dread. Good, that showed the girl was listening!  
  
"Another choice is to tell Vilion that the child died. It can be arranged for "it" to be taken to the village and left to someone who shall take care of it."  
"No! Do you hear yourself, mother? How can you be so heartless?"  
  
Fandral heard Valera shouting and knocked on the doors.  
  
"Valera?! Is everything alright? Let me in!"  
  
Adyssa quickly approached the doors and firmly announced: "All is well, Valera is still in pain and she has been given some medication..."  
"The child... is the child alright?"  
"The child is not born yet...”  
"What? I heard its cry an hour ago!"  
"I am sorry, but you did not. You are imagining things, my dear son-in-law. Perhaps you should take some rest. I shall call you when the time is right."  
Fandral was pale. Adyssa was a tough woman, but even she would not lie about something as important, so he went to the balcony again to clear his head. It was warm and perhaps he really was imagining things.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
  
Adyssa listened to his footsteps, never unlocking the doors. When all went silent she returned to the bedside, continuing with her lecture.  
"The last option is for you to exchange the child with another."  
Valera wanted to scream, but Adyssa quickly placed her hand over the girl’s mouth.  
"Will you be quiet!"  
Valera nodded and Adyssa released her.  
  
"I am ashamed of your fall. This is a terrible way to lose your hard-earned position in court! And to think what I sacrificed to give you the best I could. It is only by the purest fortune that the Norns have now smiled upon us.” She took a deep breath, not caring much of Valera’s condition.  
"Vilion is not a prince, but he has this estate and few others upon the south. You shall lack for nothing. But only if you chose wisely - do you want to end up on the streets? With an illegitimate son, who would want you? All you have is your beauty and you are incapable of looking after yourself it seems. I sincerely doubt that the king would take you back... actually you should be grateful he did not kill you both. You will be the death of me, daughter!"  
  
Valera stared at her hands, silently crying. Her mother did not look at her at all, so it would not matter.  
“Your husband will not accept that creature”. Her piercing gaze was again upon the weak new mother.  
So, tell me what is your choice?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah,so what is she to do..hm...i dont know...


	38. The Inner Mirror...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the previous chapter was like a start of sub-story-House of loki..but u can read it as a continuation of previous one.i don't handle series very well.and i am not felling well so i dont know y is this one so...ugh...also i have a blockade and i don't know how to proceed.you are not to help me are u ehehehe?tnx for reading anyway.this is for wellsee21-she wanted to know what fen thought of heloki ship.palefire73 dont hate me please.i needed an escape from my own reality and i had to write something...

  
The numbness, that feeling of extremity, of nothingness... completely fulfilling and overwhelming, a feeling that had won the war against all others. It was quite short, yet powerful and to Loki it was an addiction. He lay beneath the water staring at the surface above him. The pain in his chest warned him that he would not last long... he was in need of air. He had been in this small purifying world for too long... finally he lifted himself up, the numbness gone and pain was all that was left. He thought of the other much more intense pain. Not the physical one. He leaned his head over the edge of the bathtub and closed his eyes; he craved that dull feeling again, for his mind would not gave him peace.  
  
After staring into nothing, he finally got out the tub and dried himself. He had chosen to wear only his long night pants... the night was relatively warm, especially for a half Jotúun and he needed nothing more. There was total dark in the room and he could hear his wife sleeping. She was disturbed by her dreams again. They occasionally tormented her, but she only spoke of them when they included Jormungandr or Ragnarök or those who brought ruin to them, such as Odin. Loki knew what she dreamed when she remained silent. Of him. Of them. Of the meanings... and the reality to which she was blind by day would come in her dreams at night.   
  
He carefully got in bed and slowly pulled Hel closer to him. After kissing her temple her breathing returned to normal. Was it to always be like this?  
  
He had more than many. He was a most powerful man. Above all, he ruled billions upon billions of souls. He had a wife who loved him and who he loved endlessly in return. At that thought he turned onto his back and let his gaze wander in the dark. That would be a classic description of a normal, ideal family. His family was not ideal, and it was certainly very far from normal. Their marriage was the most scandalous thing Asgard had ever witnessed. In fact Asgard had not seen it. For there were only a few servants and guards present as witnesses at the wedding. Loki was not surprised in the least when Fenrir refused to come. After hearing that they were engaged, he started to visit taverns on a regular basis to drink, even starting a few fights... After that his new friends offered him a trip to the lands behind the mountains. It was to be for a week or so, yet he had been gone for months. His letters were the only proof that he was alright. Both Loki and Hel could only try not to worry too much.  
  
Hel did not refer to Loki as she used to, the way she should. He would storm out when she forgot herself. The word – “Father” - it was unbearable to him, and every time he thought he had finally persuaded himself that he was no longer that to her, the past would find its way to haunt him. Or was it the present as well? Not to mention the future.  
  
The emptiness Hel felt after losing her son made her want to fill it with another one. She wanted for them to conceive a child. But she would never forget the horror she saw on the face of her husband the day she told Loki of her desire and afterwards, dared not to repeat her plea again. He used his seidr to prevent anything of a sort from happening. He was cursed. He had to remain calm, but he was always led by his perception, intuition and mind and that voice within his mind kept repeating the same thing... you truly are a monster... bedding your own blood...  
  
His mood was unpredictable... one moment he was calm and reading a book, and the next he would throw it on the floor, scream for no reason, destroy something and leave. The thoughts would keep coming and coming... especially now in the dark. Many times he would rely on his emotion to communicate with her and thankfully to their bond he could. Words would not suffice to ask her if she was still sure about all this. Did she regret what they had done? Her luminous eyes and wide smile always confirmed that her love for him never faded. He would never allow himself to love her to the fullest.   
  
That would be the end of him.

 

\----------------------------------------------  
Hel s perspective was more influenced by fantasy and less by anything else. She learned how to escape to her safe place, where no one could follow.  
  
Loki could not hide his thoughts from her; she had been through the same, had she not? So she would let him deal with this situation the best way he knew - on his own. She was pretty aware of his doubt every time he questioned her, over and over again, and the fact was, she questioned him as well. Would he leave her today, tomorrow?   
  
And Jormungandr’s death was... a mother should never experience such a dreadful thing. Yet she had. And it left a scar upon her - one that would never heal. When she had first given birth, she was inexperienced, scared and young. But now she was ready, and now she wanted a child with the man she loved. And if Loki was to leave them both, she would at least have a part of him. Fenrir was truly never hers... he was wild and he was his own master. Oh, how stubborn he was, she smiled. What she really wanted now was to have a little girl to whom she would sing and dress her in the finest dresses and to whom she would show all the worlds. Her little princess... she was lost in thought, analysing her own reflection for some reason. The mirror she gazed upon was from Nifelheim. Unfortunately not many things could be brought from there. Especially not servants. After the war they had to return.  
  
Jotúuns do not live long – only to the equivalent of 40-50 years. Mostly because they were the victims of Odin’s attacks and they had no food or shelter. Many were killed in the last few thousand years and those that were taken as slaves were treated as monsters. Their fate was sealed. She hated that term... the term Odin often used. After reaching their 20s, the Jotúun aging process slowed down, almost absurdly, so that the time their women are the most fertile and their man have the most strength for battle lasts as long as possible. Aesir lived up to 5 or 6 thousand years... so much longer. There were not many old Jotúuns left. Thus, regarding her heritage Hel was still in her early 20s, and Loki was in his mid 30s... She looked only few years older than Fenrir and soon he would stop aging as well. But her appearance only could fool another, for she had been through more than most could withstand. Surely she was wiser than many girls her "age”, and now her biological clock was ticking...  
  
"Mother!" In the mirror she could he see Fenrir standing at the doors... his lower lip was bloody and he had a few bruises.  
She grabbed the first fabric she could find to wipe the blood off: “What has happened?"  
He rolled his eyes; not out of annoyance, but anger. "I went to the tavern last night... I know, I know you forbade me, but I have a right to do as I please, since you two are doing the same."  
She took few steps back, crossing her arms.  
  
"You are not to talk like that! Especially when you know perfectly well... were you drinking? You are drunk, aren’t you?"  
"Hahaha! And that is all you are concerned about! So, I am not fitting of this ideal little family you pictured in your mind, am I...?"  
She lowered her head...  
"Fenrir... I understand how you feel, but this can not be an excuse for you to act like a fool. There are other ways to clear your... confusion. Who did you fight and what for?"  
He raised his eyes. "What for? What for?!"  
  
He grabbed her by the elbow then, and dragged her in front of the mirror. "That is why! I went out for a quiet evening with some friends and the moment I stepped my foot inside that blasted tavern, they all stopped talking and kept watching me as if I was... oh, no matter! One man came to the table where I was sitting and said horrible, absurd things. About you. And I had to defend your honour and I almost smashed his head. If I had shape shifted he would not be among the living today. Others came to his aid and... well... let’s just say that I am not welcome there any more."  
  
  
"What did he say?" She whispered, assuming the worst already.  
"He said that incest is probably a tradition in Jotúunheimr and that... that you and I share the same bed as well..."  
She covered her mouth with her hand... By the Norns... would they never stop interfering with their privacy? Could they not have at least some happiness?  
  
"Who was he? If I see him, I'll...!"  
"Kill him? Be my guest, mother... and kill every single Asgardian then, for they all share the same opinion. They all loathe us, and sadly I think they are entitled to do so."  
She shook him hard. He was still under the influence of alcohol and the bitterness that came out of his mouth would be his embarrassment the next day. She hated seeing him in this state. He gently pushed her away only to point at the mirror again. “Look at your self, mother... you haven't aged a bit, now have you? You do look like my sister..."  
  
Then his facial expression became one of pure disgust...  
"In fact... you ARE my sister... my half-sister, damn it!"  
Gritting his teeth, he hid his face with his fists...  
"Urgh... I just wanted to tell you that I am leaving... I just came to take some of my belongings before I do so..."  
"What?! You... are... not... going... anywhere! You can not let others decide for you... there shall always be evil men out there, and you must show them that their words mean nothing!"  
He looked at her, his eyes half lidded.  
"Oh, but they do. They do, mother... and maybe you can be deaf to them, but I can not! I do not need others running away from me. They all know who I am! Fenrir Lokison is my heritage. Ragnarök. All of that has brought me only pain!"  
He moved to the doors, unsure on his feet.  
"Perhaps one day I would want a family of my own... and here... who would give their daughter to someone like me? And who would willingly enter into this chaos?"  
"I am to start anew. Do not fret for me. Sif, Hogun and Volstagg shall be my company, and I will write you letters on a daily basis. Farewell."  
  
Hel squeezed the cloth so hard her hands turned white and Fenrir turned to her one last time before vanishing.  
"Oh, yes. One more thing... I would suggest to you and darling father that if you wish to have another child, you should think twice. For I shall be merciful and free it from its miserable fate by killing it..."  
  



	39. The Heartless...

  
The King’s emerald eyes were closed and his mouth twitched upwards after he re-read the letter for the fifth time. This one was not from Fenrir, but from Valera’s mother, Adyssa. The woman had written behind her daughters back of course, to tell him that he had another son. That there could be no doubt he was his, for the boy could not resemble Loki any more than he did, with the exception of the pointy ears he got from Valera. Hel was not to be informed of this, not yet. Loki was oblivious, but he was genuinely smiling, that distant feeling of joy and pride was a part of his being again. A son. He wanted to see the boy and hold him as soon as possible. He could not lie, not even to himself that raising another child would be a gift directly from the Norns. They had found him deserving of this.

The four meter tall Helblindi had honoured Loki with his presence only few minutes ago and was there during the handover of the mentioned letter.  
"So, it seems that congratulations are in order!" The Jotúun showed his sharp teeth, forming what seemed to be a smile.  
"Indeed,” Loki said softly, "this is to be celebrated. Would you like to drink something, Helblindi?"  
The Jotúun looked down at his half-brother and placed a large hand upon his shoulder. "Despite this joyful occasion, I am here on a more serious matter. You are under threat from your discontent people. You need to hear the words of wisdom from..."  
Loki rolled his eyes.  
"Oh, do not tell me. I have heard all the well-meaning recommendations from both the council and everyone else already. They say that I must remarry, for Hel is not a true queen of theirs. Am I correct?"  
Helblindi nodded. "You are correct."  
  
Since he was twice the size of Loki, the smaller man sat on his throne so he would have a better look at his kin. He was used to reading others expressions and analysing them for the smallest details. However, with Helblindi, it was a challenge.  
"This is ridiculous! That I should - what? Become a bigamist? Banish Hel, what? And who should I take as a queen? An Asgardian? Or perhaps a Muspelheimian giantess? Oh, they would all be thrilled with that. Or maybe, just maybe... a Midgardian woman... and she would die within mere seconds!"  
"This is crucial brother,” the Jotúun prince spoke slowly, "the realms find you to be weak minded and unstable. Maybe even controlled by Hel. She is my niece and dear to me, but... the demands of politics can not be ignored. I would wish for you to find a respectful Jotúun spouse, but since you already have Jotúun blood that is not necessary. An Asgardian bride or one from Alfheim, perhaps?"  
  
Loki lean forward, "Are you suggesting Valera?"  
The giant nodded again.  
"And who would be better than the mother of the heir to the throne? The elves barely tolerate you and they could rebel at any time. Maybe even form an alliance with other realms. But a marriage between two strong kingdoms could change that."  
"Fenrir is the first in line and Leifr can only be second."  
"No, the first! Your oldest is believed to be the spawn of a witch!"  
  
Loki was now on his feet, walking slowly and threatening to his antagonist, “Choose your words wisely... I will not tolerate insults to any... and I mean any... member of my family! Is that clear?!”  
Helblindi made a sound similar to the deep purr of a large wild cat. Loki was always different. Frost giants were introverted creatures; they knew the secrets of magic and they were not unfamiliar with the dark thoughts that followed. They knew how to control them. Loki had only half their blood and he would forever be between two worlds. Helblindi felt sorry for him.  
"Perfectly. But I shall not stop to advise in any way I can. In whom can you trust, Loki?"  
Loki returned to his majestic seat. "You're right..."  
"No one...”  
When Helblindi left, Loki whispered "maybe not even you..."

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Time showed that Helblindi’s dark predictions were precise. More and more news came on a daily basis. Although the Muspelheimians had been defeated, they were seeking a partner to stand against Asgard. The Alfheimians forgot their diplomacy and called Loki dangerous and unpredictable. The Vanir and Asgardians always shared mutual antagonisms and preferences towards others, and their opinion was rather obvious. Loki wanted a world without war and without any discrimination in any of the realms. He was the new All-Father and it was his duty and personal desire to ensure peace. He had already seen too much blood spilled and most of it was during the reign of his predecessor. Loki would be damned if he was to be like Odin.  
  
He had to sign papers and receive numerous diplomats and advisors... but he only was stalling...  
  
For he was lost when it came to telling her. Hel was predictable in her unpredictability.  
He was already in pain, for he was losing her already. The vision of her murderous gaze upon him was going to become a reality. He only needed to push the doors open and confront her.  
She was reading a book in the comfort of the royal bed, still wearing her white lace nightgown. Although the book was the one of fertility seidr, she was prone to change the title every time someone would enter the room. As if she would read the history of Midgard so early in the morning, Loki thought. The grave appearance of her husband made her place the book aside and listen to what he had to say.  
  
Her reaction was violent and Loki had to pin her down to the bed just to gain some control over her. The servants that were in the room ran for their lives, while others found their way to the doors to have a "better understating of this new turbulent situation”. One was never to know when their presence should be required by their scandalous majesties. They were certainly not in a search for any new gossips. They would never...  
  
Loki tried to calm her by using his seidr, but Hel’s knowledge of this type of spell had evolved and she broke it almost effortlessly. All this was too much... although she could accept that Valera gave Loki a son, it was another thing entirely was to marry her! This was a delightful way to show her that she was unwanted and that Loki was to deny Fenrir as well, now that he had a chance for a more "normal" family. A political marriage he said. Nothing more than that. Then why did she feel so utterly forsaken? She replied to his prepared speeches with swearing and yelling, and to his embrace with a slap. She slapped him once, twice... she wanted him to react, to prove her that he did care. But he remained unmoved.  
  
"I hate you!" Her eyes were now black, as they had been on occasions such as war.  
Nothing.  
Please speak to me...  
...nothing. His gaze was empty, as if he was not present at all. And that was more than enough for her - this was the moment when he abandoned her for someone who he loved more. Valera was under his skin now.  
His mouth opened only too late: "Hel..."  
She invoked the smoke and was gone.

 

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Fandral almost threw Adyssa out of the house when he heard of the letter. She had already done enough damage by manipulating them both, and all to ensure herself a better position. Now Loki was sure to come for Leif and there was nothing he could do. His love towards his wife made him accept and grow fond of the boy. Yes, the other elves talked... it was shameful to take care of another’s child, yet Fandral was the one to do the opposite of what others would expect from him. The boy was his son and he would raise him to be honest, loyal and good. He would eventually have to tell Leif of his true father, without all the lies Fenrir was fed with. The consequences of these kinds of lies were massive and literally created a false history. Loki fortunately never came, but sent a letter requesting that they should make an appearance on Asgard within few days. Those nights were sleepless for the both of them. Valera fretted about what Loki might do. Would he take Leif from her? This was one of her greatest fears. Also Hel... Hel’s influence over Loki was quite strong. And Valera knew how Hel mourned over Jor... so would she be jealous of Leif? Oh, yes! And what she would do? The half-elf swore that if Hel even tried to harm her son. Vilion had to use his charm and his gift of assurance that none of this would occur. Hel was many things, but she would never hurt Loki’s son, not from spite or hate. However, with Loki’s family one could never be quite sure of anything.  
  
When they arrived, the sight was hurtful both to the eyes and heart. Fandral used to know a much different Asgard. All his memories were associated with a powerful, strong kingdom full of life and endless possibilities. Loki’s Asgard was quiet, enveloped in shadows and fear. People’s distrust towards him was very much present. On their way to the castle he could not help but hear many profanities directed to Loki and Hel. The infrastructure of the institutions was also different.   
  
Knowledge and tutors were granted to all willing to learn, servants had rights they never had before. Women were to be treated with more respect, almost to be equal as men. The food and water were not a luxury but normality and the gold and resources were shared equally. There were less of those of a lower class and more of those of a middle one. So, Loki was not the worst king, after all. He ensured that his minions were well secured. The Bifrost was to be rebuilt and there were more guards at the gates of the worlds. Yet, that mattered not to the Asgardians .they hated Loki and for what he stand for. He was not of pure Aesir blood and they would never accept him as such. And by knowing Loki one could only fear what was on his mind to try and change that. Demanding their presence was not a good sign.  
\---------------------------------------------------

  
Loki welcomed them, not in the great hall, but more informally, in the dining room. He was dressed casually and dismissed his guards. He gestured for them to sit and make themselves comfortable, but the tension only grew, for Loki said very little, yet when he did his tone spoke a lot more. There was a deepness that both elves recognized as a threat of some sort. No one could read Loki. Perhaps Loki was surprised by his own actions sometimes.  
  
He had still not seen Leif, so he was impatient, but things had to run its course. Only after the dinner did he come straight to the point. His decision, no - his command - was not only offensive, but a way to prove his power over them once more. Valera and Fandral’s marriage must be annulled and her fate was to be betrothed to the king. It was not the wish of the King himself; his subjects demanded it so. Fandral slammed his fist onto the table and, even though he had no chance against the Trickster, he drew his sword. Loki remained motionless, if the one hand movement with which he made the sword disappear did not count.  
  
He narrowed his eyes and lowered his head, looking over to the elf through his thick black eyelashes. "Your behaviour has not improved, elf! Do I need to remind you of your position? I can end you right here, right now in this very room, without leaving the decision to the council. You are mine and your fate is in my hands."  
Valera could not believe how cold Loki had become. She could not help but sob and plead out of pure terror. Loki’s face didn't move an inch. He was indeed truly heartless. He was her master now, whether she liked it or not. And he was to take her against her will, beat her... or kill her, if he was in the mood. Loki decided to let her carry on believing so. He was not fond of his idea of taking another wife. He had a wife... this was only to be a ceremony per se.  
Her tears woke something in him, but he had to play the part of the ruler, for the walls had ears and his respect was gained through fear.  
He was not one to hurt any woman; he respect the weaker sex and admired them. Women were the ones who endured the pain of birth, mistreatment and cruelty of idiotic men. He could only be grateful to Frigga for explaining this to him when he was very young. Since then his observation of women took a path through the layers they possessed to preserve themselves. Valera would not suffer for much longer, but for now it was necessary. People thought the worst of him, and who was he to disappoint them?  
  
"Guards!" He called out with a yell, but still moved as little as possible, which made him look only more terrifying. "Take our Elvish friend, the admiral, to his chambers and be sure no one enters or leaves... and take Lady Valera to separate ones, also making sure that she is alone at all times. Only food and water shall be provided for them."  
Fandral kicked, fidgeted and fought the guards, but it was in vain. He was quickly dragged away by a few tall Aesir.  
"This shall not end here, you cold Jotúun bastard!"  
When the doors finally closed Loki called the maid...  
"Bruhilda, bring me my son."

 


	40. Wicked Games...

  
Leifr... Leifr Lokison... No, that was not the name a son of Loki should have, especially if the name had been chosen by another man. If this name had been given by Valera, Loki would not have said a word, but since it was Fandral’s misdoing, he was firm in his decision that the boy should be named Lucien Lokison. It was a powerful name fit for a prince and it served him well overall. Fenrir was bending over the crib to take a better look at his new brother, with who fell in love with him instantly. To Fenrir, Lucien was utterly humorous...  
  
"My dear little brother, I am sorry to inform you but you are absolutely destined to be ruined from the start. Do you know that you have two fathers, a mother, and now me? Your mad brother? Hmmm... I do feel pity for you, you little pointy-eared elf with sharp fangs!" He smiled widely, "...My, my ...what a strange creature you are!"  
  
Lucien returned an equally big smile, opening his mouth and drooling a bit. Unlike Fenrir, who craved raw meat, Lucien drank blood and shared the same pale shade of skin as Hel. Fenrir often visited him, bringing him gifts and taking the role of his protector from now on. He was certain that Lucien was to walk the path the rest of them could not. That he was destined to be not cursed, as he jested, but to be guided by his fortunate stars. The seers had foreseen that Lucien would outlive them all. Fenrir was influenced by Jormungandr in the short time they had spent together and he believed his task to be just as important to this tiny creature. Lucien would not hear arguments or be a witness to fights and affairs. Instead, Fenrir would teach him how to ride horses and jump over puddles without landing in the mud. So he lifted the child into his arms and took him for a walk through the hallway.  
  
The maids and ladies of the court only found this to be endearing and sweet, following them and waving their veils. There was something tender and sweet in a man who loved small children and Fenrir was unprepared for this type of attention. Until now, he was to be feared just as much as Loki and all of a sudden he was considered to be a desirable bachelor. In battle he was fearless, but with the opposite sex he was still rather shy, which to his surprise only made their interest even stronger.  
  
He was one to be open and direct in many occasions, but there were thoughts he kept to himself.  
When he received the message of the upcoming wedding, he was with Sif, Volstagg and Hogun on the very edge of the realm... they were at the beach and Fenrir was casting rocks in the ocean, his rage only slightly tamed that day. He was imagining that sooner or later his brother would appear from the endless deeps... Sif slowly approached him, also letting her gaze drift over the peacefulness of the ocean, for her thoughts were with someone else who was no longer with them. Their losses brought them closer to one another. To him, Sif was... well he had difficulties with finding the right attributes. Sif was... Sif was a reality... not a dream or a fantasy. The bold shield maiden, honest and honourable, was something he would desire in his spouse one day. He had never before considered courting an older woman, but she made him feel worthy of something greater than just protecting his realm. He desperately wanted to know what that was. That was his quest. Fenrir spoke in a friendly tone with all of them, including her. That way he could gaze upon her oval face a bit longer. She had large cat-like eyes and small but full lips which would stretch in the most adoring smile he had ever seen. She was now here; they both shared the moment of recollection and the sorrow in her eyes was meant for one person, and one person only. Thor. And Fenrir had been the one to kill him... If Thor was under Odin’s influence, she would never forgive him. She would even probably try to avenge her lover. Yes, Sif was out of his reach...

 

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The wedding was the one Asgard had wanted and its proportions were unforgettable. So many wanted to attend it and to marvel upon their light Elven Queen. To gaze upon her beauty and to participate in the ceremony and afterwards the extravagant celebrations. To drink and eat exotic food from both of realms... oh, yes... the people of Asgard breathed for such things. The halls were decorated, and to Loki s taste they were absolutely provincial and kitsch, but he pretended, for his sake not to notice all the screaming colours and flowers that did not match or the endless carpets that complimented nothing. There were numerous strips hanging from the ceilings and blooms of some of Alfheim’s rarest plants were scattered all over the palace. To ‘ensure more offspring’. The servants and the maids never stopped bringing plates of food or pitchers of foaming mead, for it seemed there were never enough of them. The guests, both invited and uninvited, kept appearing from everywhere. To graceful Loki they were nothing but beasts. All the shallowness of their supposed mannerisms was gone. They were a horde.  
  
The ceremony itself was quite short at his insistence; the less he was to be among them, the healthier for the both of them. Valera’s tears had dried the night before. She had cried so much she feared she would die. Adyssa brought her the strongest tea imaginable, so that she would be numb during the procedure and this time, Valera accepted the offered drink without any questions. Loki was looking through her and not at her, for she was now a stranger to him and all their years together were as good as erased. His tone was emotionless when he repeated the vows and he felt a bit of relaxation when he turned his back to the thousands present. All the diplomats, kings, queens, the councils and many others who he despised came to see this farce. Where were they when he was marring the second time? When he was claiming his eternal love to the raven haired queen. They could see how unwilling he was, and how Valera was as well. She did not stand before them as a queen but as a doll - a means to an end.   
  
Panem et circenses - bread and circuses. Provide people with food, give them dancing and songs without any quality and they were at your feet. And the greater the event, the bigger were the lies. No one, absolutely not one person here thought for a single moment how wrong this was... or cared. Hel was fortunately, not at the court at the time, and Loki knew not of her whereabouts. Fandral unfortunately, was very much in attendance and in the first line, standing next to Valera’s mother. Adyssa wore the most vulgar and expensive gown embroidered with pure gold and a distasteful amount of jewellery. The tall elf fought not to look at her, for he was sure he would choke her. Oh, how inviting was her long neck... Now she had got everything she had conspired for, he hoped that she would choke on her cursed ambitions. She had destroyed four people. People with hearts, souls and bodies and not her pawns. Or were they? Her poison was theirs to swallow now.  
  
It was a custom that the newly wed couple was to retire from the the feast before midnight. The crowd cheered, sang and raised their glasses and goblets when Loki and the new queen left for their shared chambers. Fandral decided to get himself drunk that night. As much as his new metabolism allowed and maybe beyond.  
  
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Valera immediately froze when Loki locked the doors, for she was his wife and she had to obey his every command. The tradition, mentality and culture were such in both Asgard and Alfheim, and Adyssa reminded her of her duties as a wife on more than one occasion. Loki felt sick when he saw her slowly approaching his (and Hel’s) bed. He could recognize Adyssa in all of this. What was she expecting? Valera was a queen of the people, not of his heart. This was to be a platonic marriage, and it pained him to watch her trying to take off her gown.

 

  
He spoke briefly but softly. "Valera, you are to share the room with Lucien. It is the one on the left. I do hope you shall find it fitting, for I oversaw the design myself. I still do remember few things you like."  
Her eyes were filled with endless gratefulness, but she had to ask nevertheless.”My lord, shall this be every night or..?"  
  
He shook his head sadly. How had it come to this? By the Norns, she was terrified of him.  
  
"Valera, in the privacy of our chambers, I am still Loki and only Loki. And yes, this is how it shall remain. We are not a couple and I do not intend to separate you from your husband. In fact, when all this gets quiet, you have my permission to see him again... discreetly of course."  
She wanted to hug him and say something, but he had already raised his hand to stop her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I wish to rest myself, thus I bid you good night."  
  
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Hel returned to the castle a month after, without letting anyone notice. During the daylight she was hidden in her old chambers and during the night she would indulge her need to walk around, often among shadows, for the antagonism of many were still upon her and hers upon them…  
She used the opportunity when Loki and Valera were absent to see Lucien. They said she wanted him dead, that she was jealous of this child... but how could she be? He reminded her so much of Fenrir, only those betraying ears were there to remind her of his true parentage. This was not the child she desperately wanted to be hers... but despite that, she let herself believe, at least for a while that he was. She loved to carry him around the room, to sing to him and hum the songs she made up for her non-existent daughter or son. The one Loki never wanted to give her. Why had he not spoken with her of that before they were wed? The decision was not his alone. One tear escaped her... she had so much love to offer to this small being. Lucien was quiet and intelligent and it appeared that he could communicate with her telepathically. He understood all... all she said... or tried to cover from him, and herself. He had large clever eyes. Loki s eyes... and Loki’s smirk...  
"Oh, how I wish you were mine..."  
  
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Since this behaviour could only lead nowhere, she forced herself to stop seeing the boy for some time and to start getting out during the day. It was a burden on her mind. The staring and wicked tongues. To hear others say how she had fallen to her proper place, and how it would be better for everyone if she would return to her dark realm. She wanted to cover her ears and run through the hallways... had she not suffered too much already? Could they not let her be? The first doors to her salvation were the ones to the storage rooms. Unusual, she thought. She could not recall the storage rooms being here before. They were supposed to be on the other side of the wing.  
  
"Ah, my lady. I see we have much in common... such as sneaking around in the most inappropriate places."  
Fandral was sitting on a wooden chair made for the servants with his feet on the table... also made for the servants, so the quality of it was in question. And no one else was around. He was drunk, as he seemed to always be these last few months.   
"I must disappoint you, my lord, but I needed a bit of quiet. That is all. I intended to stay here only until these unbearably cruel servants passed by. I apologize for disturbing you with your hmmm... activity...” Cynicism was pouring out of every word, yet they interacted in that way. She would attack and he would disarm her with his jokes. He loved a good challenge and she his now faked joyfulness.  
"Hahah. Nonsense... please... come... join me." She pretended not to be overly interested, yet he did not need to tell her twice.

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------,

  
This type of socializing between two miserable, pathetic creatures as they called themselves became something of a habit, for to see their loved ones sharing rooms was a torment for both the elf and unwanted queen. That night they were engaged in another socially distressful exchange and Fandral finally persuaded Hel to drink some wine, of course with a mixture of blood. The taste was bitter and she found it foul, yet after another sip, she asked for more. So he corrupted her to the very end and now everyone had a right to call her obscene. He smiled patting himself mentally on his back. For Fandral desired either peace or a good juicy scandal. And scandal was always more fun.  
  
There was not a soul in the dinning room who did not notice this strange couple. On the other side sat the king and his new wife. Valera had her head lowered and could not even look at those two. Loki was digging nails into his fist, but managed to keep it under the table. The laughter of his dissolute daughter was unappealing, so he excused himself and left for "some fresh air". Valera quickly followed. The guests now had a chance to exchange their deep insights upon the matter.  
  
"…How rude it is of our beloved king to leave his guests on the pretence of something more important.” The elf placed his head onto his hand.  
"Oh, do not be so vulgar, Vilion. How many times have you left everyone else with the same transparent excuses? I have heard that many children came out of them."  
"I am surprised at you!" he said, his eyes half closed "I have truly misjudged you.”  
Hel took another gulp of her blood and wine cocktail.  
"Mm, how so?"  
"Well, I thought - we all did - that you would be absolutely devastated after Loki proclaimed your marriage to be invalid."  
She bit her lip.  
"No he did not.... we are still married, yet to many that has no relevance. Only to me."  
Fandral was not smiling anymore, yet he placed her head onto his shoulder in a similar way to how Loki used to.  
"I am truly sorry Hel. How fate is playing with us... we are merely stones in the hands of something greater."  
"I can not believe I am about to say this; for some reason unknown to me, or perhaps it is the wine speaking instead, you remind me of him." She really had a problem to put a decent sentence in order.  
Now he smiled again, breathing in her flowery perfume.  
"And you, my dear, so broken and fragile, remind me of her."  
She returned to her goblet, almost blushing, and he coughed only to look at her up and down.  
“You know..." He traced his hand over the table and placed his over hers. "If they are having their little fun, then why can’t we?"  
Despite him anticipating Hel saying something to destroy the very roots of his primitivism, her answer indeed surprised him.  
"This is one of those rare occasions when I agree with you."  
He leaned closer, his eyes darkening. " Hel, I am not jesting."  
"Neither am I."

 


	41. Darkness In Light Itself...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i aint happy with this...the words just wouldn't wanna come out...

  
The day one sun died in the realm in of Asgard was nothing but a long expected sign. The one which the dark elves of Svartalfheimr had awaited for nearly ten millennia. The Norns predicted the fall of Odin upon that very day, followed by the fall of Asgard itself. Many considered Svartalfheimr to be but another deserted land without any vegetation... only sand and dust. Oh, how easy it was to trick all those of limited knowledge, for the elves first hid in the caves and crypts under the surface and later on they built large cities unequalled in both their size and the power that circulated though them.   
  
Unlike the light elves of Alfheim, who were mentioned in the many tales of Midgard and described as beings of ethereal beauty, seductive and mystical, rarely seen, the Svartalheimians, those who came among men, were recognized as goblins, orcs or trolls. Their height varied, their appearance was not as pleasant, and their malevolent nature towards other species was something to be feared, especially by the weak and easy to deceive humans. And what a delicacy it was - the human flesh. So sweet and tender. After numerous cases of half eaten bodies that were left on the edge of the forests or some even on the doorsteps of victims’ houses, the mortals started comparing all fairy folk with the dark entities. Many dark elves could cast an illusion upon themselves to appear as the light ones, or any other benevolent creature of a similar kind, in order to attract their prey. And so the persecutions began. The light elves and other woodland creatures that inhabited the realm of men had to bring a veil upon their world. It was the only way to ensure their safety, yet the separation from the mortal men was the beginning of an area of steel and metal. The mortals had turned their back upon the earth and, worst of all, in the times when they could be taught so much. Indeed those were sad times.  
  
The dark elves were unwelcome and greatly avoided by other realms as well, for they were the only species that coexisted with the darkness and out of the darkness. Since they craved the extension of their dominion further from the borders of their known world and they planned to spread the dark energy. Their distinctions went further. Even though they had children for which they fought, although they bled and died, unlike any other species upon Yggdrasil, they did not wish to rule others but to completely erase them from existence. For the others could not exist without the light and its warmth. Neither could their animals and plants, so there was no use taking any hostages that would eventually diminish, they concluded.  
  
They could walk under the sunlight but refused to do so, for to them the golden disk in the skies was a mark of Asgard, the realm that had defeated their previous attempts to envelop the darkness around the everlasting Yggdrasil. Darkness was protective, a source of life... in other words, the infinity stones were carved out of the primordial dark. The dark stone they had in their possession. Its ability was to absorb the seidr of others, both the stones and those who wielded their powers. In Svartalfheimr’s history there were no kings or queens; they only had leaders. To battle was in their blood and finding the right leader was not an easy task. It had taken them almost two years since Odin’s death to agree that they should give that honour to Mror, who secretly desired more… More of everything. He did not wish only to destroy Asgard, but to go against the pathetic beliefs of his people. To rule... yes, for what he wanted was to be the new All-Father. But first he had to get rid of the existing one.

 

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The night behind them was a night that Hel would never forget, no matter how much she tried. And try she must or she would fall into her own melancholy and self-hate - if she already had not - and from there into her soul’s death. She could not reconcile with herself. Why, why had she again sunken so low? Their wild and rough coupling filled with the purest lust and a fight for sexual dominance was heard by all. Was Fandral’s hate towards her father also reflected upon her? Was this on purpose, to spite Loki or was he truly desperate and seeking someone to replace Valera? She felt as unclean as she recalled all those devilish games he introduced her to. And many of them went beyond her most sinful imagination. During their acts of intercourse, or one of them at least, they broke a few things and Fandral was cut. She indulged her dark nature and drank from him as he continued to take his pleasure from her. The blood of the elf was nectar. It was divine...  
  
Oh, he had been insatiable and had lived up to his reputation, yet in no way could he be compared with Loki. No one could. She turned her back on her lover, tightly closing her eyes, hoping, or just pretending, that this was but a nightmare woven from her hurt, loss and anger. Soft kisses upon her neck proved otherwise. As his silver hair caressed her pale skin, Fandral wanted her to face the reality, even if she was to despise him afterwards. Yes, he had taken her to enrage Loki, but they had a silent agreement upon that part, as he remembered. All is fair in love and war, yes? His irony was quite humorous. The only time he had truly and deeply loved someone and he was prevented from being with this person. His stomach turned at the thought of the many broken hearts he had left behind. Karma, indeed. If he could not have Valera, perhaps he was destined to be with this raven haired neurotic girl. And, by all means, he would fight Loki for at least one of them. So, let the king come and face them. This is his doing after all.  
  
After taking Valera to their chambers, Loki quickly returned to the dining hall, not wasting any precious time. The sight of his daughter and that unethical drunk was suffocating him more and more by the second. His face had reddened and his fists clenched, but he repeated to himself... you must remain calm and regal... let them by no means see your turmoil and fears, for they are feeding off your suffering. No matter how much he tried controlling his voice, he couldn’t. But to see the obvious serpent-like satisfaction of the courtiers was too much. They said that Hel and the elf had retired to his private chambers. Loki s eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he rushed to prevent anything occurring, leaving all those hypocrites to whisper and laugh at him. At them...  
  
Hel, please do not do this, do not humiliate yourself and do the unthinkable! He thought as his steps became faster and faster. But in the middle of the hallway he froze. He was too late. Through their bond he could feel that she wanted this. Her feelings of need and emotional fulfilment were given to her by another. Loki leaned onto the marble wall, for his knees weakened. He knew he could never be unfaithful to her and yet she had grasped the first opportunity to rip his heart out. And with that trash of a man... and... in front of all of those who should fear for their dear lives when they were in his presence. And, yet they treated him as a fool.  
  
By turning slightly, Loki could see them, in the corner of his eyes... they hid behind the doors, lurking ... expecting for him to do something rash, unexpected... something to prove that he, indeed, was a monster. He who held sick feelings towards his own child. The irony in all this was that he was thankful for that, for if they were not here to enjoy themselves he would lose all of his self-control, which was drastically fading, and he would truly kill Fandral. Oh, no. he would deal with their lack of respect for him another time. He had two options; either he would stay here and explode, eventually slamming he door open and leaving Hel in the blood of her lover, or he would turn on his heels and leave this decadent, shameless place behind him. He wisely chose the latter option.  
  
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The colours of the palace burned under the morning sun. Unfortunately, it was a sight many would never have the privilege to witness, for most of them were still far from being awake. Loki, however, was not one of them, and he couldn't care less for the castle in the distance... for the castle that was his. But he was never to experience that feeling of something belonging to him now, was he? For everything he had ever had was short-lived, or taken. Even as a king, one was not his own true master. Oh yes, one should read between the lines. The king is there to serve his people, which only lead to those who stood between them gaining the true power. Those sinister creatures who wished to rule from the shadows by moulding him the way they found fitting.  
  
And him? The truth was he had to - had to - admit to himself. He was a bloody fool. Once more he had placed his fate into another’s hands and was left with nothing. And now here, upon the cliff near the sea where he was screaming his pain out, everything became clear. The fate from which he had run for all this time was unfortunately, the only answer. All his predecessors had one thing in common. Brute force. And such would lead only to rebellion and then rebellion would bring the war. He was sitting cross-legged feeling the breeze that gently played with his hair.  
"There can never truly be peace in Asgard..." he whispered. But he knew that the place where there truly could never be peace was his heart.  
The next moment he heard someone sneaking up behind him, but he was not fast enough... There was a strong blow upon his head and he fell unconscious...  
  
 

  


	42. Words That Pierce....

  
Fenrir held two fingers between his brows to ease the headache, for these leeches in red had surrounded him and he had to fight the urge to roar at them. Loki had been gone for two whole days and by the next morning it was alarmingly clear that he was not going to return any time soon. The affair had shook him to the core and the hallways of the court had not been as nearly so alive within this last two years. Young Fen was literally pushed onto the throne the very next day, as the advisers forced numerous papers in front of him.  
"My king..." They had started calling him and he could not connect that title with himself. It was surreal.  
"My king, what do you intend to do with this... what do you intend to do with that...?"  
Those repulsive smiles plastered upon their faces... Fenrir was unprepared to sacrifice his freedom so fast... and for what? Two-faced characters who wished only to drain both his energy and Asgard’s resources. Loki was the one accustomed to diplomatic issues, not him. He could smell their lies... they found him to be naïve and, well, not very intelligent. He was a half-beast and a Jotúun in their eyes. It had only been two days and Fenrir wanted to scream. How could Loki desire or even stand this? To be King was to be ripped apart on many sides. He found himself actually admiring Odin in some way. He had ruled for centuries and no one had dared to go against his will. Fenrir wondered if anyone knew why Loki was so determined to stay in this ungrateful position. It was only logical that Thor was the one to sit upon the golden chair and not some bastard of Odin. Loki had been met with accusations, primitivism and prejudices of all kinds ever since he was brought there and separated from his own mother.  
  
And he had not wanted to let anything of the sort happen to his children, for he wanted all of them to have a better future, a better existence than he had. He had thought or at least hoped that if they climbed up the social ladder, no one would dare to lay their hands on them. Upon that cliff, where the only voices were his thoughts he came to a realisation. The one he did not want. It was not only an issue of working hard to make someone accept you, but to know when to stop tormenting yourself. Asgardians objected to him because of his heritage, seidr, his intelligence... they unconsciously knew he could achieve so much and yet they paradoxically feared he would. So they took him to be a less worthy being. Until he accepted that picture of himself... yes, he was less worthy. If so many said so, it must been true.  
  
A location also plays an important part on one’s perspective. In other realms many feared the powerful sorcerer of Asgard, but also held deep regard for him. And the Aesir perspective was obvious - to banish or destroy Loki in any way possible. And then to place another in his position. In a pitiful self observation, Loki stood behind only one thing and one thing only... he would walk through thorns if that was to guarantee his family’s fortune.  
  
"Your majesty" One of the advisers grinned, showing his teeth.  
"I would suggest, if I may, that we raise the taxes on Nidavellir and Alfheim and, perhaps Jotúnheimr, as well... for 10 to 34 percent. That would instantly bring an increase in the economical standard of our great realm."  
Fenrir shook his head violently; he could not do this any more...  
  
"I...um..." Oh, he hated his parents sometimes, he really did. Why was he the one to suffer for their mistakes? And his birth was the largest one of all, to begin with. He could imagine himself far off in the mountains with Sif and the others. Cold crystal water, the smell of pine trees, the admiring sight of eagles high above them...

  
But when he saw the judgmental look on this man that was supposed to listen to him, not to decide instead of him, he snapped out of his day dreaming. If Loki did not arrive before the next sunset, he would bite their heads off. Most certainly.  
"How can we increase the taxes upon those who can barely pay the ones that the council has already forced upon them? Many lives have been lost and homes destroyed... you can not expect me to do something so senseless to my people." ...hmmm... my people...  
The adviser’s face dropped. Fenrir was not so easily to convince. And a ruler with a mind of his own was indeed a dangerous one. And had to be stopped.  
  
"No! We shall lower the taxes, both upon dwarves and elves, and do not even speak to me of Jotúnheimr. Their loss was by far the worst!"  
The adviser in red was not one to back off so soon. "The state of Asgard’s expansion is one of prime importance, my King. If the central realm is not at its finest, how can others hope to follow? The immigrants, my lord... all of them are arriving here in a search of a better future. We can not provide them with so many work positions... or food. We have enough slaves for that."  
The young man leaned backwards and narrowed his eyes, now showing his sharp teeth.  
"If you are so eager to increase taxes... then I shall start with you, Igil! You and your lords are to pay your part but I think it would be fairer if it was raised…"  
He grinned, mimicking Igil’s now non-existent smile.  
"... by 34 % higher than you did the previous full moon cycle. And afterwards, if you still agree, I may reconsider to do the same to other realms. Now you may go, for I wish to retire."  
  
Igil’s face was as red as his dress.  
"But... but your majesty..."  
"Oh and furthermore, I don't believe in slavery of any kind. If my father does not return I shall simply... set them free."  
"That is preposterous, my lord! A true madness!"  
"Now go... or shall make you one?! So that you may experience what it is like when you are treated as trash. And Lord Igil... you are trash..."  
After they left him in this pompous hall, he placed his legs over the edge of the throne, and his back cracked a little.  
"But first, I am going to order for a more comfortable chair."  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Loki was gone... and she had the worst possible feeling. She had noticed something others did not. It was quiet... only too quiet. The birds flew up to the north and she could not remember seeing any other animals either. By the Norns, was it more danger, or was it her imagination? She was too nervous to think. Hel was pacing back and forth. She had not left her chambers ever since... not even to help her son with his new duties. Fenrir would not have listened to her solutions anyway. Why would he? The true reason was that she was only too ashamed to look her son in the eyes. His mother... a cheap whore... as they called her. She covered her mirror, for she could not bear to look upon her face. They openly blamed her for Loki’s absence, yet they could not be any more glad that their King was gone. On the other hand, Fandral was being questioned by other men about court about his night with her, and many did envy him, but would never admit so. If the Queen of Nifelheim was such an obscene creature, they wished to have her, for she had no inhibitions and was certainly not like their traditional wives.  
One thing the charming elf was never expecting to feel was rejection. No woman had ever turned her back on him. He lost Valera for the sake of lies, but Hel completely ignored him after their shared night of fierce passion. It stung him. He was in a strange period of what seemed like constant losses, so he tried to find his answers in the best possible place. His goblet. And then there was no stopping him from sharing the most delicate parts of his, and other’s, privacy. He mentioned that he was who he was before, but he only set the chain reaction of thunderous laughter. The women of the realm were not oblivious to their men’s behaviour and for the first time started to think of Hel in a way they never thought they would. She was a threat. And someone went so far to slip a letter beneath her door, calling her all kind of names. So there was no peace even in her own chambers. Those beasts... as if they were sinless themselves! The court was a hive of orgies and alcohol... a hive of loose men and women.  
  
A soft knock sounded on the doors. Hel said nothing. She had ordered nothing and was anticipating no one.  
  
A honey-like voice came from the other side. "Hel? It is me, Valera. Please can you open the door?"  
  
Valera? Oh no...How is she to face her... how...?  
  
"Please Hel. I know you are in there. The servants told me that you refuse to come outside and I need to speak to you."  
  
Very well, you ridiculous idiotic fool. It was bound to be, sooner or later. You wronged her and now be prepared for anything the rightful Queen is to bestow upon you.  
  
When Valera sat on the chair, Hel did not know how to proceed. Her thoughts roamed through the consequences of her actions and she concluded that silence was, indeed, golden.  
  
"You look tired." It was spoken so genuinely and with such a measure of concern that the raven haired girl had to lift her head and meet the eyes of the light elf.  
  
Valera’s expression was not one of abhorrence or vengeance, but of apprehension. Her cheeks were pinkish as always and her eyes dreamy and weary.  
  
"It takes one to know one" Oh, she could slap herself now! She had used sarcasm when she felt the most vulnerable, and that truly was an ungrateful and regretful habit.  
  
"Oh...I. forgive me... I..."  
  
Valera smiled a bit: “You are quite right. I blame Lucien... he is such a strange little thing, to quote Fenrir. He sleeps by day but gives me no peace at night."  
  
There was no pride to swallow and she decided upon the direct approach.  
  
"Somehow I do not believe that you came here to speak of our children..."  
  
"Hel... please look at me."  
  
Was she hiding again? She could be so fatalistic. The Queen asked and she obeyed. Valera took her hand into hers. ”I am not here to judge you."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"I think you have been victim of all the accusations that exist and what would that make me then? For I did the same to your father."  
  
There was a piercing silence again... The very thought of their men lying with another caused physical painful, yet they had not chosen the circumstances. The circumstances had chosen them.  
  
Now Hel smiled, but her pale green eyes were still sorrowful. "So... we are even, then?”  
  
"Yes, yes I suppose so. Let this not tear us apart. We are part of the same family now."  
  
"Well, my Queen. How should I address you? A mother, perhaps?" Hel was a contrast to her own self. For those who could not see her, yet could hear her, would presume that she was evil and emotionless. Her voice was almost playful, but Valera was there. And Hel was on a bridge over a river of tears, both of sudden easiness and blaming and wanting something she did not have.  
  
"Oh, please do not... I would feel so old!" The Elven woman decided upon an easier tone, for every true Elven maiden must always bring joy and a beautiful atmosphere to those around her. This time she used her knowledge for a better purpose. She wanted to.

  
"Perhaps... one day we could be... friends?" Hel wanted to embrace her, but instead only slightly nodded.  
  
"Then it is settled, friend! You are to leave this room and at least see the new flowers in the gardens... they are truly breathtaking."  
  
"Valera..."  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Thank you."

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  
Cold. It was so unnaturally cold! There was a chill running down his spine. Not a cold from the outside that puts the body into a sleep, but something else. Cold from within his own body... his seidr... as it was slowly leaving him... no! He opened his eyes to examine his surroundings. Nothing... deep darkness. He searched for a spark or a flame or something that would tell him where he was...  
  
"Grokass Loki..." Came a firm voice from next to him. He barely recalled this to mean King Loki. And it was one of a dominant language of the Svartalhimian elves... in Asgard it was taught as a dead language.  
  
"Trogs ei lin?" Loki asked.(where am I?)  
  
"You are on my ship..." Said the elf.  
  
"Unhr reday rogh"  
  
("you are blind"...)  
  
Loki’s eyes widened in horror...  
  
He started shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
"The lights are on, yet you do not see them or me. But I see you, King of Asgard and Jotúnheimr."  
  
"And I admire you. That is the only reason why I have not killed you in these last two days."  
  
Two days? Loki lost two precious days.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
He had to gain time.  
  
"I am Mror, a leader of Svartalfheimr. And we are not on Svartalfheimr, but in Asgard. Only a few minutes away from your sun city…"  
  
Loki had to control his voice, if only that…  
  
"I am not even going to ask you what you want, for I've heard of your people."  
  
The elf quickly turned...  
  
"But I am not like them... I see the potential of Asgard. What dominion over others can bring. And I wish to take your place.”  
  
Loki bitterly laughed: "Of course. It is such a divine position."  
  
"Do not laugh at me King Loki. When I said I admire you, it is because you have brought changes that Asgard has never seen. You brought peace and proved that one man can do an anything."  
  
"Then you are mistaken! Power is only an illusion. It takes, and isolates... and kills! You are mindless if you think that I shall let you murder my people!”  
  
The elf lowered himself so that he could speak directly in Loki’s ear. "You can not do anything, even if you try... your body is paralysed, for the darkness of the primordial stone which is upon your right, is taking all of your energy and forming it into that which we need."  
  
He was taking his seidr and life.  
  
The Norns had told him back in Valhalla that he would return as Loki only once more. His time had now passed. Every cell in his thin body was telling him that. This was farewell. He closed his eyes... they were of no use anyway. The bitter-sweet memories of his family were the only thing he could see. His children... Vali, Narvi, Hel, Fenrir, Jormungandr, Sleipnir and Lucien...  
  
My beloved children... I am so sorry I have disappointed you. I wanted to create a better world for you and now…  
  
He thought of Valera. She must understand his wrong decisions.  
  
He felt then his bond... it was still there! The one thing no darkness could take.  
  
"Hel..." A voice came out of nowhere.  
  
She grabbed her heart. "Father? Father! Where are you?!"  
  
"Listen... there is no time! Evacuate the city. The dark elves are attacking... take care of your brothers!"  
  
"Fath..."  
  
"I love you, Hel..."  
  
And the connection was gone.

 


	43. Darkness Against Darkness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning!if u know the myths loki-lovers skip the last part...

  
The whole castle was shaking... the columns were falling, followed by the ceilings. Sometimes leaving someone beneath them. The windows couldn't stand the pressure upon them and exploded. The streets were filled with screaming people and the tower’s falling marble blocks greatly lessened their numbers. There hadn’t been so many civilian victims even during Ragnarök... and while the end of the era of the gods was more a traditional war, where it was all or nothing, those that did not participate were not seen as a threat. Their lives should have been spared.  
  
The dark elves played a different game ad these ‘rules’ were not known to them... Mror did nothing to prevent them from destroying everything in their path. He was waiting for the right moment. They came not by ground or by the sea, but by the air. In large ships made of impenetrable material, and their lasers fired the energy of darkness. One hit and there was a gaping hole where there once had been a golden wall containing numerous realistic statues. One hit and men fell... the stone absorbing their life force. Its power grew by the minute. Asgard had the same amount of ships, prepared for such an attack, yet their own rays did not damage the iron-like ships of death. The Bifrost was now non-existent, so any aid was almost impossible from the other realms. The seidr masters were to travel to the portals, but many never reached them. The Jotúuns had received the message and were the first to help, but the magic of ice was only slowing the inevitable, so the message was sent to the Muspelheimians who, still under Loki s rule, had to obey.   
  
Exceptionally tall, and deathly, yet very slow, they did succeed in destroying a few ships, but so many of them died only too soon, for the energy caught them only too easily. The dwarfs of Nidavellir were firm in their decision not to help Asgard. They saw no threat to their world and only felt antagonism towards a narcissistic, absolutist realm such as the one of the sun. They were aiming for separation, for independence.  
The Alfheimians were also careful about the number of legions they sent. The once mighty Asgard was to fall and there was nothing that could prevent that. Besides if they were to show the Svartalheimians that they were more on the neutral side, they could come to some agreements. Even the dark elves would not go against the light ones... their ancestors shared the same blood. Svartalheimians could not but think otherwise, for the light elves were useless creatures. They possessed the knowledge of herbalist, culture and art. It was truly a wonder to the dark ones that they were not a species found only in the history books. Oh, but that was to change...  
  
\------------------------------------------------  
  
The frightened women, children clinging to their mothers, and animals were placed in underground stables, deep beneath the castle itself. They consisted of numerous halls stored with food and water. Their resources unfortunately were not for such a large number of people. So, in a basic calculation, the conclusion was that they were to have them only for a few days. After that... they would have to depend upon the mercy of the ones that won.   
  
The ground moved once more. This impact was very close and they shivered with fear, but the animals surprisingly made no sounds. Their senses told them so. Indeed smart creatures they were, unlike many hysterical women whose whining only endangered all of them. The sounds of Muspelheimr itself were the ones that dominated the realm... the whole left wing separated itself from the rest of the ancient palace and shattered in pieces. There were ruins everywhere and many Aesir could not suppress the horror of their loss. Their beloved realm would never be the same.   
  
The dark elves made an improvised bridge between one of the ships and the upper floors of the left wing, which was now an open wound of the castle and the Svartalheimians entered its insides, shooting their weapons that were unknown amongst the Aesir. They had achieved their technical peak in uttermost silence. The mighty Asgard, the legendary Asgard, was at last theirs.  
\-----------------------------------  
  
Several floors below…  
  
Valera was tightly holding an unexpectedly tranquil Lucien and was screaming from her doors. She should already be within the relative safety of the courts hideouts, but she could not leave her mother behind. Adyssa said she had to take with her something important. In her case, it was not food or water, but jewellery. She already had five full bags prepared; unfortunately for both of the even ladies one had ripped under the weight of the gems and they scattered all over the floor.  
  
"Mother, what are you doing!? We are under attack! Leave that!"  
Adyssa was on all fours collecting her (but mostly Valera’s) precious belongings.  
"Shut up! This is my investment! I worked so hard for this! And what if we are to stay poor after this?! We have to start from somewhere!"  
"Not if we are dead!"  
She finally grabbed her mother and dragged her out of the room, still holding Lucien in her other arm.  
As they ran trough the Palace halls, Fenrir and Hel joined them and helped them with their bags. Adyssa was frustrated for having only two; her thoughts were still in her chambers counting the stones left behind. In the corridors they were met with Sif, Volstagg, Hogun, and a few Alfheimian warriors including Fandral. When Adyssa was finally escorted to the underground hideouts, Fandral’s distant attitude melted away and he gently pushed Valera onto the wall passionately kissing her. No one dared to speak. This was their moment, and perhaps their last one. But that would be left unsaid.  
"Lucien you take care of your mother for me." He said, trying to smile.  
  
Valera desperately dug her nails into his shoulders; her eyes were wide and concerned: "Promise me that you will come back to me! Promise...”  
He kissed her once more. "I promise... I promise that you will see me by the end of the day."  
It was indescribably hard to separate himself from his beloved, but he had to. He was in a high military position, the one he never wanted and he was to guide all those silver haired men who, although they looked like statues ready to listen to his every command, only thought of what they were leaving behind. And who. When Fandral shared a little private moment with the Queen, to be indifferent was not an easy task. Most of them had families of their own.  
  
Fandral passed by Hel, barely glancing at her... which made her only recall her disgrace, yet in these times this could not matter. It could not. Her real disgrace would be if she was to let this opportunity slip between her thin fingers. This moment was the sand carried off by the wind. She should say something, but was unsure what, there was a high possibility that her words would again ruin this soft sweetness that some would carry with them into battle. Fandral was always overly confident on the fields. But this... this was a dark seidr... this was something Asgard had never faced before, and she would never to forgive herself if she was to leave this coldness between them. So she dared to speak.  
"Vilion...”  
He was not expecting her voice at all, not after her toying with him.  
"Um, please do be careful... Valera needs you. And we shall all miss your excessive and unrealistic tales."  
The tension slightly faded and he smiled.  
When the elves, Volstagg and Hogun vanished behind the massive doors, Sif went to run after them, but Hel wouldn't let her die. They never truly liked one another, but Hel respected Sif's strength and determination and she knew what her death would mean for her son.  
  
"Lady Sif, you are to accompany the women and children and guarantee their safety during the attacks."  
Sif's brows furrowed, for this was potentially an insult to her warrior prowess...  
"Your majesty, I don't see why men can not to do that instead of me. I am here to help my fellow warriors out there, and I assure you I am quite capable of..."  
  
"No!” Hel looked as cold as Loki did when upon his throne. "This is an order. I do not do this because of your gender Sif, but because I know that the women need to see one of them who is strong enough and one of them who can give them hope. Who reflects the survival instinct. And who would be better than you? Besides there shall be few male guards as well. Now go!"  
Sif’s lips tightened.  
"It is an order lady Sif!"  
And she finally left; her angry footsteps echoing down the corridors.  
  
Fenrir breathed out, the thought of losing Sif upon that day, or any other… no! He ignored the thought. He was to have a clear mind. This was to be a test. A true test where he was to leave these walls as a boy, but return as a man.  
  
And Hel recognized these thoughts.  
  
"Mother, before I go... I must ask something of you...” He said, taking his sword.  
"If anything happens to me, I beg you... do not do to me what you did to Fandral... I do not wish to be an even larger freak than I already am. If... if I am to die as a warrior... then I shall be glad to. That is my wish."  
Hel wrapped her arms around him.  
"Do not speak to me in such a manner... ever... you are my son, my only son... and I am not letting you go! Do you hear me!? I forbid you to go and stand against those wraiths!"  
"You can not command me; I am a man now and...”  
"And I am your mother!"  
  
Anyone who did not know who they were would only guess them to be brother and sister.  
  
"...and you shall listen to me! if you die, with what am I left... I lost your brother two years ago... and now I have lost the connection with your father... and I do not know where he is. My heart already bleeds and I would die before I would let you fight."  
The young man sighed. In a way she was right. But he had to choose between his friends and people and his family... again. He was not going to separate from his mother’s skirts now was he?  
"What do you want me to do then?"  
"Help Sif to protect the women and children."  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
  
There was another horrendous bolt of energy against the Palace and she met the floor, breaking her ankle in the process. Since her body was capable of self-healing differently to anyone else’s, it was restored within mere seconds, but Hel still was sitting on the marble’s coldness trying to connect with her father again. Nothing. That paralysed her, but she had to proceed. Had to. She was more focused upon her self bestowed task now that her son was safe from the elves and he had a chance of surviving. But that would not last long, for the elves were scattering through the rooms, mercilessly taking both gold and lives. They searched for something. And so did she... the infinity stones. But unlike them, she knew where they were. In the very place where Frigga took her once, when they brought Loki back from Valhalla. Behind the tapestry near the servants entrance.  
  
She was still limping a bit, but that was to her advantage, for if her steps were any faster, the elves would have spotted her. This way she was the first one to see them. Shadows welcomed her as she melted with them, never taking her eyes off them.  
There were five Svartalheimians marching near her. They all had in common large noses, white eyes, sharp teeth and long grey hair. She slowly went behind the corner... there was the kitchen... a few of her enemies had turned the whole place upside down. The table, destroyed dishes... some from the era before king Bor. And now they were drinking their finest and rarest wine and eating something... both the meat prepared for the feasts and the servants that they found there.  
  
The urge to kill them and to torment them when they were within her mercy in Nifelheim was only too strong, but to draw any attention was to bring doom upon them all. She had to reach that room where the power of Asgard laid first.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------  
The light elves had unusual battle strategies, yet no flying ships of their own, so they were transported by the Aesir ones, and while the Asgardians fired their lasers upon the Svartalheimians, the Alfheimians ran from one ship and jumped upon the enemy’s one. Who would do something like that? Who could ever do something so utterly ridiculous and exchange their transportation in such a manner? Fandral thought. Who else, but the elves - they were all graceful and lean and did not fight as real men should, but he kept quiet. And he could not help but admit to himself that this time, their skills were needed. And he was to be the one in charge. Fate is cruel, indeed.  
  
"We can not find any entrance, admiral Durson!" One of them yelled and over so much noise, he could not hear a word his warrior spoke but he understood.  
One of the things a former Asgardian never will understand are some of the weapons the light elves used. Plants. No more than...plants...  
Every warrior had at least 10 different ones in their pouch.  
"By the Norns... the Frunil... give me the Frunil... he said. Or more... he gestured.  
Frunil was a flower similar to the Midgardian daisies in appearance, but its juices were pure acid. So he carefully squeezed it onto the surface and after a while it worked... the surface material melted leaving a wide hole...  
The other elves did the same, copying their wise admiral. Fandral only puffed.  
  
\--------------------------------------  
  
Once inside, they took out the Nionlin... a plant that absorbed the light of the sun and lit up in the dark as a substitution to a torch.  
And the elf admiral did not know if he liked it or not... for they would surely be seen... However, there was no one in sight. No one. The halls were wide enough for them all to walk next to another, and to their surprise, there were no doors or any entrances... only halls. The dark elves did everything opposite to the Aesir, even on their ships.  
"My lord” one elf said...  
"Look.”  
There was but one room there.  
"Be careful, it might be a trap." Another elf whispered and Fandral nodded, pushing himself forward to be the first to go inside.  
It was a vast room, but there was nothing in it. Only iron-like walls and a table... with something or someone upon it. Whatever it was, it was hidden with a cloth. One of the silver ones uncovered that underneath it. Many elves would normally not expose their emotions, but this sight appeared to be the one of the nightmares, for it simply it could not be true!  
"Your fate will be the same, Alfheimians" The dark elves came from nowhere, as if they could control both the light and dark. Fandral and his men were surrounded.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
  
This time she was the one to invoke the flying torch that lead her through an excessively long narrow hallway and into the small room. She could feel them... the stones were still there; Loki had simply made them appear to be books, but Hel knew nevertheless. She knew him only too well.   
  
Sometimes...  
  
She placed them on a table and cast the spell Loki would when he was opening the portals... to open an abyss which would take those monsters within and through them only the Norns knew where. What else was she to do? For her seidr was never to equal to Loki’s. The stones shone... but the energy was blocked... they did not work... their light was gone.  
  
"Oh, no... No... Not now!"  
She tried again and again. She went through all the spells she could recall. Hours passed by, until she was exhausted and in tears and sank down to the floor. She could hear them, those monsters, walking on the floors above and below hers... the castle was being destroyed. It was a reality. She could already see the corpses of women, children, her son... and husband. There was no hope. No hope...  
  
"Loki... Frigga... Norns... someone... help us..." Her words vanished as if they had never been spoken. In fact, she could not tell if she had spoken them at all. Her mind was spinning and the pressure in her chest was rising. She remembered an old song some warriors sang...

  
“The days of our glory are in our paths  
but, we in our blind victory  
do not see  
that soon with the death itself  
the dinner we shall share....”  
  
She hummed... quite oblivious that she was humming at all. The sight of Nifelheim, death and what she expected to be Valhalla filled her mind.  
  
Then, for some reason she turned to the one item she had not considered before. The very thing she despised beyond words... her skeletal hand... the one that contained the dark seidr. It was there, wrapped in a cloth as always, and now covered with dust. Loki did not believe that anyone would dare to lay their finger upon it, so it was unchanged. She laughed hysterically, for she felt that Frigga had guided her in this. But was this the Frigga from the past who knew what was to follow after Ragnarök, or was it the Frigga of the present that sent her protective seidr to them? If a light can not destroy darkness, then perhaps darkness can fight darkness. It was against all universal laws, but she had nothing to lose... except everything.  
  
It was very dangerous to unleash the dark seidr, but it was now or never... the black smoke filled the room once outside its habitat and now it was up to her to control its path, for everyone touched by it would fall. She had to envision every single room, chamber... she had to feel every single heart beat within the realm, so that she did not kill any innocent person. The smoke exited the walls of the room, expanding itself and leaving numerous bodies behind it. It entered the kitchen and the dark elves died in the middle of their meals. Hel was shaking and sweating... it was an unimaginable torment for her mind, but she could not stop now. No, not when the blackness could take a will of its own... the smoke left the towers and gardens and it’s cold hands pierced into Svartaflheimr's ships. It did not take long before they began crashing. It was working! One after another; most of them disappeared beneath the sea. She saw the Aesir run from their doom and she turned the smoke’s path. She did the same, repeating her saving moves with all the other warriors that were on their side. Blood started dripping through her nose and mouth, but it was not possible to stop now. The seidr had to be redirected... but where? Somehow, the smoke sped up and went towards the portals. Its control was out of her reach. The energy’s desire was to kill... kill... Svartalfheimr. The smoke went there.  
"No, do not kill them..." She pleaded.  
  
Her vision was one of the children of the dark elves and their mothers. Her eyes snapped shut. The attacks upon the castle ceased, so she could now try to cast the spell she intended to do before. She took the stones once more and chanted, and their colourful glow filled her surroundings. A binding spell... the smoke was returning trough the walls and back into its resting place. To her, time stopped, to the others the agony lasted for days. She collapsed. The darkness was indeed a blissful release.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Later, weak on her feet, she used the walls to keep herself walking. One of the guards ran to her and placed her arm round his shoulders. She was confused by his assistance, but even more so when they came from behind the corner and were greeted with numerous courtiers and peasants, who bowed to Hel with deepest respect. They knew she was the one who defeated Svartalfheimr, for who else was able to wield the blackness, but the Queen of the dead? Her awful appearance only proved this. They kissed her hand and expressed their gratitude by giving her gifts, but she only waved her hand...  
  
"You are kind, but forgive me... I can not accept any of this. You must take care of your families first, Asgardians... but, I am grateful nevertheless..."  
They were touched by this... they had thought only the worst of her, yet she had been the one to save them.  
"I... I need to retire...” She barely said.  
"Where to, my lady?" The guard asked.  
"My chambers... please...”  
  
They were about to reach the staircase, when horrid screams and cries echoed through the whole palace. The sounds chilled their very bones... the sounds of someone having their soul being ripped from their body...  
  
Hel wanted to find who this person was... the guard was reluctant for a moment, but helped her towards the gardens. There was a woman... a young woman... a blond... young woman. The Queen. Valera... she was kneeling on the floor and was pulling out her golden locks in deepest agony. Her once soft melodious voice was hoarse...  
  
Shocked at what she was witnessing, Hel turned to the guard.  
  
He lowered his head; his eyes were sad, as if he was sympathizing with both Valera, and the way he looked at Hel... with her as well.  
"Mistress. The Svartalheimians sent us a casket before they fell. A message, they said... for the Queen’s eyes... and yours..."  
Hel pushed him and tried to hurry to her friend... her legs betrayed her and she dragged herself to Valera.  
What was in the casket had indeed ripped her soul out...  
one maid approached the guard...  
"What is in the casket?"  
He took a deep breath and paused.  
"Two heads"...


	44. Never More...

The absolutism became the past...the kingdom was kingdom only in the name,not in the structure...Asgard was now a democratic society and when young Fenrir was crowned he did only what he knew was for the best. He completely rewrote all the laws and completed what Loki could only have imagined to have come about. It was Loki’s wish for his people to be united, for the differences to be erased, and the realms to breath as one. After the attacks of the dark elves, it was either that or fall back into the bloody cycle of never-ending wars.  
  
The species that by that time were mostly homogenic opened their doors to the others, and vice versa. More mixed marriages did more to stabilize the peace than all those millennia of cutting throats, eating enemies’ flesh, rituals made of hate and spite. Sometimes it was difficult, for some societies could not comprehend any other cultures but their own. These were mostly the Muspelheimians and Midgardians. Humans could not deal with the knowledge that they were not the only intelligent race, so others had to hide.  
  
Fenrir set free all the women and men that were bound in servitude, yet many stayed on at court for he was a rightful ruler, and he had their respect. Unlike Loki, he got his respect not from fear but from being one of them, one of the people, and for the people. He spent his time with them and not with the elite. He saw enough of them... all those who wore masks for so long, that they forgot who they really were. He also organized help for many who suffered irreparable damage and he shared the gold equally. Yes, indeed it was time like no other. A time in between, and a time before Asgard was to fade into tales and legends.  
  
Yet the fate for those behind its strong walls was altogether different.  
  
After their husbands left this world, Valera and Hel went down the paths of no return. Valera lost her mind... In her sleepless nights she walked through the hallways, screaming and crying without even knowing why. Her heart only told her to do so... he voice was haunting the castle and no healer could find a cure, so eventually she was sent to Midgard, to surroundings that would not remind her of her lover and so that the former queen Frigga could look after her. Frigga was a known seidr master and there was hope that her powers could work miracles. And other women with the same misfortune were sent to her. The name the Midgardians gave them was banshee...  
  
After her departure, Adyssa stole all that she could find in her daughter’s chambers and ran off into the unknown, where a few years later she was robbed and killed.  
  
Fenrir finally won lady Sif’s heart. Their marriage was but a short one. Sif gave birth to a stillborn son and the healers said that she would never be a mother. Fenrir was under the burden of sadness again and became a regular customer in the taverns. One night he drank so much he got lost in the woods. They found him the next day. He had fallen off a cliff.  
All this time Hel spent reliving every moment and every possible alternative outcome of her decisions and actions. If she had not gone with Fandral that fatal night, Loki would still be alive, he would have saved the palace, Fandral would still be alive... and so many others. Why did the Asgardians accept her now, now when their opinions meant nothing? For two years she was there for them, to all who reached to her, begging for mercy, for food, for some money to feed their families, to build their home anew. She went amongst them and provided them with what they needed and more. The sincere smiles and shine in their eyes made her feel that, at least for once, something she did was not in vain.  
  


  
That was her small defence against her inner demons, who patiently waited for her to came back to bed and whispered to her... “Take him back... bring your lover back... “ She tossed and turned knowing that would only be a curse to them all. That would be the most selfish thing she could do... “never more...” she repeated to herself... “never more”. Loki and she were never meant to be happy, never to experience the wholeness their souls craved for. No matter what form he took... it was never to be. Perhaps, in another life. He was not in Valhalla, as it had been foreseen. He was not in Nifelheim either, and her mind was numb when it came to finding an answer to this riddle. Fenrir was in Valhalla and she thanked the gods for that. He was granted his so often desired freedom.  
After his funeral she could do only one thing... she took Lucien, and walked by all the courtiers, all the guards, all of them who called her their Queen, who wished to see her upon that throne, established by others downfalls. No... Hel passed them without a single word.  
  
\---------------------------------------------------  
  
Midgard.  
  
The year of our lord 1071.  
  
Cedric and Beatrix were playing behind their small stone house, which by the standards of that time was something to be envious of. The siblings were from a typical middle class family; their father was a merchant and their mother a modest housewife. She was preparing porridge, which to them was a rare luxury. They were Christians and the children wore wooden crosses around their necks. Often they played hide and seek in the nearby forest, regardless of the warnings that there were creatures there that could harm them. They trusted those tales, but they were courageous little ones, after all, for many children were competing in proving their fearlessness. Cedric wanted to be a knight and she a princess who he would save from a terrible dragon.  
  
That day Cedric stole her doll made out of corn husks and ran into the woods. She followed yelling his name... he smiled back, calling her too slow, but then he stopped and so did she. What they saw was a fairy creature and either a witch or a death itself... they quickly hid behind the tree.  
The fairy woman, in a green dress that was made of something like spider web, saw them and they run away screaming to their parents. There was no doubt; the men would come within a day with their torches and holy water.  
  
Frigga smiled softly... she loved those two little rascals... yet now she would have to move again.  
It was already difficult to handle Valera, who approached the village too many times...  
But she was getting better, or Frigga hopped so...  
"What did you wish to talk about, dear Hel?"  
The miserable girl showed her the child.  
Her light green eyes radiated with so much sorrow to which there was no end and Frigga looked elsewhere for fear that she would cry herself.  
"Please... can you take care of little Lucien, for he has no one left?"  
"Of course darling... he is so big! This the first time I have seen him!" Frigga’s smile was always so inviting and warm.  
Lucien took her hand widely smiling, still drooling; his sharp fangs were only to easy to be seen. And humans must not see him, not under any circumstances.  
Frigga’s attention was on her again. “Why will you not stay with us?"  
She shook her head closing her eyes for a moment.  
"I... I can not. everything I touch dies... I truly do bring death to everyone and everything I love... I indeed am the Queen of the Dead. Lucien can still be safe from me. He can still find his fortunate star and I know that you shall take good care of him. And teach him well."  
"Do not worry Hel, I shall do my best."  
"How is Valera?” Hel suddenly asked, gazing around.  
Frigga breathed out. "Both she and Sleipnir are well. And yet, I fear that her mind shall never recover. That sight of Fandral... was too much for her to bear."  
There was a single tear that fell on the floor. And Hel swallowed hard, for it was her doing... what she had indirectly done to Valera...  
Frigga knew her self criticism only too well and offered her a hand.

  
"Do not do this to yourself. It was meant to be. The Norns...”  
"…Were right...?"  
"Maybe not right. But... many wars that were meant to be have been replaced by peace... there are no coincidences. Remember that."  
"Then they should have done it differently! And not through me!"  
Before the golden queen could say anything, Hel gave her the pouch.  
"Here... the stones. They will be safe with you. I trust no one else, and you can control their powers."  
Frigga s face was now serious.  
"Hel something is missing here..."  
She couldn't face her, so she turned her back... losing herself in her dark velvet cloak.  
"Thank you for your kindness and love. May the Norns bless you, if they did not us... farewell.”  
  
\---------------------------------------------  
  
The dry wind blew mercilessly carrying the sand with it...  
Svartalfheimr was lifeless... those that had survived her retribution closed themselves away from the upper world.  
She had never meant to cause that much grief... not even to them.  
This was to be her apology... this time she had chosen wisely... There was no one to witness her taking her own destiny into her hands... and there was no one who could fall alongside her...  
She invoked the elongated object wrapped in the cloth and unleashed the dark energy one last time....

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a short one,sorry about mistakes...i am tired.this crazy saga has one more chapter to go.i think...would like to know your opinion ...


	45. Valhalla On Earth...

  
His long fingers traced the leather covers of the large antique book... It was undoubtedly old; a blind person could tell that by the texture and the smell. He memorized the first date... October 1774. And it was not written all at once, for the dates changed every 50 to 100 pages 1856…1888...1900...1920... Strange…  
He still did not read it, for he feared that he might ruin such a precious possession. The papers had been added one by one, so some dated from... a day ago? Yes it said there: 12.3.2012.  
  
His dark eyebrows were raised... he did this when he was suspicions and he was not even aware of doing it. Who had left it here anyway? No one dropped it that was for sure, because someone was ringing on his doors non-stop until he opened them... yet there was absolutely no one in the hall. So it could not be those crazy neighbour’s kids. They could not run that fast. And they certainly would not leave him a priceless book, more like a can of open paint.  
  
He turned off his TV... there was nothing on really, nothing educational anyway... For a high school teacher, William was something between a cliché and an utter disaster. Well, at least from his point of view. To others he was tall, dark and handsome. He lit his cigarette. He hated the habit, but he couldn’t kick it. They soothed him, and his nerves were a wreck. He often took advantage of his appearance... the students were scared of him, and the girls well... he had their full attention. He did feel uncomfortable about it yet, at least they manage to learn something. Not many wanted to meet the person behind his piercing eyes... no one really cared, so William closed himself off and played the part they wanted him to play. Soon he forgot who he was - a depressive, lonesome black sheep. Ok, so maybe forgetting few things here and there was not actually bad thing, right? Everything had a reason... who had said that?  
  
The writing seemed to have been done by the same person... Over three centuries?! He did the eyebrow thing again. Oh, this must be a joke of some sort... but it was remarkable nevertheless. He read the first few lines...  
  
"I am to write this great tale a year after my beloved mother was killed by some men, merely for being different than they were, and a month after the woman I called grandma also passed away. In her endless empathy, she carried a sorrow that her soul could not bear any longer..."  
  
His own mother had died few years ago and could not be there, so that only made him sympathize with this mysterious nameless writer.  
William scratched his forehead... well this was promising... and there was the title, "Nordic Tragedy" He laughed in a way only he could, adjusting in his old bed with that awful uncomfortable mattress, which he hated. It was only one of the reasons why he never slept as a normal human being...yes only one of them, but an important one. His smoke was dancing all over the room, lifting itself above him... that was one of the things he liked about his nicotine sticks. The smoke... as if he could touch it and do something with it... maybe form it into something.  
  
Ok, he thought. Let’s see what this anonymous author left behind... some tragic love story, probably. He mumbled to himself, pouring himself some of the cheap wine he had bought at the local market. His salary would not allow him to go crazy with money... the last time he had done so and bought a decent TV, he was almost kicked out on the street for not paying the landlord. And that man, William would swear, knew more than Google. His eyes were everywhere. He knew all the gossip - who left and when, and who came and when, and with whom. Seriously, if this apartment was not so close to his school...

"Uh, disgusting!" He looked at his glass. This was not wine! He really didn't want to know what it was.  
He was not a materialistic person, truly he was not. It would be have something left at the end of the month, but to expand kid’s minds and open the doors to possibilities and to show that there are no limits to their imagination was something he was made for. He was a teacher, and a damn good one! He was in the top two in his generation at Oxford University, and he had been offered jobs in the best firms, but he thought of those who may never have a chance to be in his position and he had turned them down... Maybe one day, but not now when he had an urge to give something to others.

He needed to read this before he went to sleep, but he could not stop even after six hours! The book was mostly an unusual description of the wars in ancient Asgard from the author’s point of view and it was certainly uncharacteristic for the period of the 18th century - or any other before the 20th. It was intriguing at first, and then he could not help but to feel - truly feel - them all in his mind. He could envision all the characters by pronouncing their names...Odin... Frigga...Thor... but his heart started beating fast at the mention of Loki, Hel, Fenrir, Vali, Narvi and Jormungandr...  
"W...why do I... feel as if I know them?! And Loki... it’s like I am him!"

2 am...

Shit... and he had to go to work not tomorrow, but today! But he could not stop... he simply couldn’t. These mythological gods... they had awakened a part of him of which he was not even aware he had. Whoever had knocked on his door wanted William to have this. The writer said that he didn't really know the powerful king Odin, nor the man who killed him in the war called Ragnarök... but this was not the story of that. This was something else... as if the writer knew William’s every dark secret. And this God of mischief, of magic... why did he feel so close to him? Why did he want to slap him for making the wrong decisions? And his children... he could not stop himself from crying, and he never cried! He had trained himself to be above it, yet... he wanted to hold them and give them all that they were missing in the centuries they were separated from him.

Him... Loki or him... William? He had to stop now. His mind was creating all kinds of illogical nonsense and it was 4 am. There was a large pile of cigarettes in the ashtray, which illustrated to him how he had spent one more evening home alone, probably pitying himself and escaping into the world of books. And he had a decent amount of them.  
Who does that Will, huh? William sighed... his mind had a mind of its own.

 

\--------------------------------------------

      

“I am glad to inform all of you that you have passed your exams."  
Until that point his silky voice had been the only sound in the classroom, but now all those 17 year olds had different ways of showing their excitement... some having their mouths hang open, some giving a loud "yes!" and "f...yeah" and some... particularity - one guy made a few movements that could be interpreted as dancing?  
"…But I am not overjoyed with your score Miss Woods...”  
Professor Thompson’s tone was now deep and almost threatening and all eyes were on a pale raven haired girl from one of the desks at the back of the room. She was always sitting alone. He mind often drifted to the clouds, and the windows were her gates to another world, but her grades were always excellent. Even now.  
He had given her the result of her exam... it was an A+, but she acted disappointed and hid it from the others’ view.  
"I expect you to be at my desk after the class, yes?" His deep gaze was still upon her.  
"Yes, Professor" She barely managed...  
Some guys just would not stop harassing her and shouted, not caring about their teacher’s presence: "Why don't you call Beetlejuice to help you with that, huh?! Maybe he would pass the test instead of you, freak!"

They referred both to her looks and name... Lydia Woods. Those fucking morons. She had enough troubles already at home, did she really need to deal with these shit holes as well?

There were few things that got her through her days. Of course there was music... she loved to sing, and often wrote down lyrics inspired by… well... the stuff from the reality that was her life... lies, fights... tears... a lot of them... alcohol... the magnificent willow tree on her way home... if it could really be called such a thing. It was a house of nightmares. And she had plenty of those. I mean if Peter Murphy and Andrew Eldritch could do it, then fuck... she was gonna do it... pour her sorrow onto the paper and hope or rather dream that one day she would be lucky enough to sing for money and get the hell away from there. She admired them. She had a thing for older men. Especially with those wicked eyes and nasty smirks and deep voice... why was that? Her friends - well those rare ones she had, laughed at her for it. After searching the internet to find someone with her issues, she finally came across the story of Electra and Electra’s Complex...  
"So you want a daddy right?"  
She smiled bitterly, but could not deny that there was a man to whom she wanted to belong.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When there was no one but the two of them, William locked the doors and turned towards her. She instantly jumped, placing her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She was kissing him passionately... their little charade of her having bad grades was getting already suspicious, so they had to cling on every moment they had together.

Her crimson lipstick was all over his face, so he had to put her down to clean himself. Imagine, the principal hearing of their affair?! He would kill him, or put him in jail. He was not afraid of her parents, though... she was mistreated at home. They were divorced, but they still yelled at her for everything, as if she was the catalyst for their own problems, so she would run away. She was at her friend’s home, but one can not finish their semester from another’s apartment, not without her books and notebooks, so she had to return home. Things did not get any better after that and her only salvation was to divide herself from their reality... their agonizing, ugly, painful fucking reality... She wanted to die and she would write about it. She would sing when no one was around, for they said her voice was horrible. Yes, well their vocabulary went so far.

Lydia woods was easily to spot among the others, from head to toe to in black, which only put more accent on her incredible eyes. Well William thought so, even if none of those primitive idiots had. With high cheekbones and full lips always covered with red... she looked like Snow White. Well, a very unusual Snow White...  
When he first saw her, he had assumed that her grades would be as terrible as the music she listened to, so William was deeply surprised to see that she was among the best students in the whole school. Before her class started, she would smoke behind the school, not talking to anyone and he would pass by and his heart would skip a beat. Oh how he wanted to speak to her! Was he the only one to see through her uninviting appearance? He saw a sad little girl who wanted to be appreciated for what she was, and when she could not get it she closed in on herself... like he did. He quickly realised that they had more similarities than one would have guessed. A vampire-junkie and a well respected teacher?

His first chance to approach her without being questioned about it was when she dropped few books and he was there to help her pick them up. No Stephanie Meyer here. Lydia read Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allan Poe, and Dante Alighieri... well that was party to be expected, yet maybe not. Some of these books were only an assignment in the better schools, and this one was not even remotely close to that. Most of the kids here were from the ghettos and that was one of the main reasons he wanted to teach here. Everyone should have a proper education, regardless of their money situation. And he was the one to do it. Other teachers said that he was overly harsh with them and that they would never learn, but the tests results only proved that he was the one to be right. He made kids read. And memorize. And now, thanks to William Thompson, many would go to eminent colleges.

The moment he gave her those books, there was a surprised and soft: "Oh... thank you...”  
and his heart dropped... as if he had known her for centuries. Oh, dear God... was he... he really was falling for a student.

He was divorced from his wife, Christine, a darling blond with blue eyes who had promised him not only eternity together, but every bit of her undying love every day for four years. That is how long they had been together. And then... she left him for their neighbour. Also a blond with blue eyes... a gynaecologist. This man had no shame; he even stated that he picked that job because he loved women. No, he loooooved them. William had put a lot into their relationship and marriage, and this was just.... he started drinking after that. Not much but... oh she was such a bitch! Whenever he showed someone his better side, he was used and then they would treat him as if he was nothing. So he decided to be a cold monster. And it worked. But it did not satisfy him. He wanted more. He wanted... what? Love? He did not believe in it. Well not until now... and of course it had to be the wrong kind of love, right? For that was him. An utter mess of a man.

He was 40 and Christine was 37 at that time, and he never ever expected to find himself attracted to anyone younger. He was not that type. He admired experience, intelligence... and this girl, little rebellious Lydia was all of that. And so much more...

He hated himself for liking her so much. God, he felt like a paedophile, but she spoke to him in a way no one else would. And without a single word... he was hooked. As the semester went on, she stayed after classes more often. And then he invited her to his place, for she was afraid to go home. And that, truth be told did not happen once.

And now he was in deep trouble…

"You said that you need to talk to me?" He asked.  
She jumped and sat on his table and bit her lips nervously...  
"Um... yeah... I don’t know how to say this...”  
"Well, whatever it is we can get through it together."  
"Promise?" She asked naively, only reminding him of her age.  
"Always, love."  
"I am pregnant.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

That was yesterday and now he called the principal’s office to say that he was not coming in, for he had got flu. He just could not face Lydia... he would freak her out... and he was panicking already. He suggested other options... like an abortion. But he was not thinking clearly... idiot! Fucking idiot. The moment he mentioned it, he felt like the worst person in the world. And it was the way she looked at him. She was not only shocked and disappointed... she was completely ruined. But what was she thinking? She was till a minor. She could go to the best universities out there and she had thrown everything away and for what? A teacher in jail? He had been the one to pursue her, although he fought it, he really did and now he would be the one to destroy what they had. And again, what was it for? A typical student-teacher affair that would be on the news the next week? No...To him, it was everything.

He should protect her and take care of her. God knew she deserved it. And their baby. OMG! He was going to be a father... and that was the absolutely best possible feeling ever. And he let himself cry. But he could not rush to any permanent conclusions. The book... that mysterious book was speaking to him... and the descriptions of the realms and creatures... it was all he subconsciously somehow could relate to... he would try to find his answers there, yes!

When he read of Frigga, he saw the fortune teller that lived few stores bellow. She was around 55 years old, had cherry blond curly long hair and the most endearing attitude one could imagine. They were not so close, unfortunately, for she didn’t go out much and he worked all the time. But he did help her with her groceries and their casual conversations were very dear to him. As was she. This was the first time he had asked her for advice.

"Oh William! I am so glad to see you, come in come in!" She beckoned him inside, "Would you like some of my famous orange chocolate cookies? Or maybe some lavender tea? Or...”  
Petula was such a motherly type... and he felt secure in telling her his mountain of problems that were only piling up.  
"No, no thank you. I just... could you please read the cards for me?"  
"Of course. Sit, sit down."  
She used Lenormand cards and placed them in the form of a Celtic cross...  
"So your question was...?"  
"Am I in a mess?"  
"Yes, yes you are William... look the card of wheels... it suggests a change."  
"So what am I to do? Please... tell me! I am completely confused! I... I don’t know what would be the right decision!"  
She sighed. Oh... this young man... she could feel his pain, but hopefully all would turn out well. It had to.  
"If you truly want my advise, then listen to your heart and not your mind."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well since Petula was so helpful - not! - he sank into his pillows and returned to his book... when he was on the last two pages he closed it and let his tears fall and fall. The person who had given him this was someone who obviously knew of his affair. If the book was to masquerade him as Loki and point out his own idiotism, then it was indeed working. Loki was killed and Loki never really knew happiness even when it hit him in the face. He was not going to do the same. No way... he immediately ran to his phone and typed: "Lydia, my love, forgive me... I can not breathe without you. I don’t care what others think... we will get married and go to another town... I love you and our baby. Please call me back as soon as you can!"  
He was biting his nails. Shit... what if she did something to herself or the baby? What if she really got rid of it? His child’s death would be on his soul...  
His phone buzzed few minutes later.  
"I forgive you, and both the baby and I love u 2."

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki had been reading ‘Nordic Tragedy’ to 5 year old Phillip and Peter for the last 6 months. He skipped few parts, of course. The boys were now sound asleep; it was amazing how siblings can love each other. William’s older cousin Jack from Australia was a nice chap, but man, could he get on your nerves... William was never a sports type and Jack would drag him over to his friends and force him to play football. Mud and sweat were not the hobbies this lean British fellow wanted to be associated with. Luckily, Jack stopped coming over when he got married. His wife was a strict brunette. She played basketball and her team won all that was there to win. Who would have guessed that Jack would be commanded by a girl! Well not many would go and argue with Rebecka.

..............................................................

William returned to bed. Lydia was already sleeping, exhausted both from her exams and the boys running around. Yes, his little minx had managed to get into University College of London. She was going to be a pathologist, she said. And William could not be more proud. He placed a small peck on her forehead. He was going to be a house husband until she graduated. They would manage somehow.

Now he found some time for himself, and took up his book again.  
He had never read the last page... so he went straight to it.

"The man to whom I am to give this had, indeed, a large part of the history of the earth. His name was Loki. Both of Asgard and of Jotúunheimr. Now he is known as Professor William Thompson. And he was my father. I found myself obliged to help him avoid his previous mistakes by giving him my manuscript. I know that you have chosen well and I want you to know that I shall look after you and your beautiful family. Perhaps one day we shall meet.  
Your son, Lucien Lokison."  
The date was only a month old.

\-------------------------------

The tall young man watched the light from William’s apartment.  
He smiled widely, exposing his sharp teeth. He avoided Midgardians for a reason... ha! It was within reason for him to be generalized as a vampire... but only because he drank blood. He had pointy ears which he hid under his long soft hair. Many were misjudged for being of mixed species.  
And now they were a part of the Midgardian entertainment industry. Those so-called ‘movies’. He could not help but laugh.  
And now he was laughing again, for if his father had found his fortune, who knew what was in store for him?  
Or for anyone else... one simply needed to wait. And that was the beauty of it.

To find their very own Valhalla on earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so this is probably that...probably...who knows when will i be in a need fro u guys..so ill contact u then...i luv u all for your support and great ideas.and if i do mange to seal this stupidity u will be on my mind.many tnx to palefire73 who is the best beat ever,weelsee21,rat mommy,like really guys...u r the best...mia ,animefreak141,and others...hope u like it so far.. heh


	46. SEQUEL

hi ,all you dear readers...for those who don't know here is the sequel of the trilogy :http://archiveofourown.org/works/4505220/chapters/10244637 so more of loki kids,problems...everyone getting killed...have a lovely day XD

 

                  

                                                                      


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